Word: breathing
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...those perfect autumn nights that make Manhattan seem magical. There is not a cloud in the sky, and looking up from the streets, you can see stars. On the avenues, white lights speckle the trees. There is a chill in the air--just enough to ice the occasional breath--and the urgent roar of the city is a reminder that New York at this moment may be the Rome of the modern world. The NASDAQ is at a record high. Again. New companies are being born. It is a perfect night for a launch party...
Still need a reason to quit smoking? Try this: puffing away quadruples the risk that you may suddenly suffer shortness of breath, heart palpitations and overwhelming feelings of anxiety--in short, a panic attack. What's the link? Lungs of smokers tend to be overstressed, which may make smokers more vulnerable to attacks. Kick the habit, and the increased risk vanishes...
...tiles ajar where kids had scampered to hide in the crawl space. Shoes left behind by kids who literally ran out of them. Dead bodies in the library, where students cowered beneath tables. One boy died clenching his eyeglasses, and another gripped a pencil as he drew his last breath. Was he writing a goodbye note? Or was he so scared that he forgot he held it? "It was like you walked in and time stopped," says Battan. "These are kids. You can't help but think about what their last few minutes were like...
...acting to break your heart--such as his expression that seems to encapsulate all the injustice in this world when it is announced in the courtroom that he has been sentenced to three consecutive life sentences. He explodes with the rawest of emotions that makes you catch your breath, such as when he bangs his phone against the cell window telling his lawyer that he cannot stay in prison anymore. There is just nothing that this man does that does not speak straight to the heart...
...their records run th aural gamut from fuzzy lounge-lizard pop to gritty reverb rock (and most often are a synth-washed mix of both). Through it all, though, they manage to give you the cold shoulder. Morgane Lhote's Moog must have a special dial for "disaffected": a breath of chilling ennui blows through all their music, a vague sense of world-weary aloofness that has its heart somewhere in songwriter Sadier's low-mixed lyrics...