Word: clattering
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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NEWS BULLETIN: the bloodiest urban massacre in Communist China's history never took place. Thousands of troops never stormed the perimeters of Tiananmen Square. Hundreds, probably thousands, of students never died. Photographs depicting bloodied faces and battered bodies, news footage documenting the clatter of gunfire and the crunch of army tanks, foreign press reports detailing the pileup of dead and wounded bodies at hospitals -- none of it happened...
...around Reese, the musical clatter and chatter of baseball training have revived Mesa, Ariz. In the distance a tall rookie without a right hand, No. 60, is sprinting. "This may be the age of the $3 million pitcher," says the old coach, "but the kids just showing up still have the same stars in their eyes. They keep looking down at the front of their shirts. Any day in a major league uniform is great." When No. 60 crosses into view, Reese whispers, "You know, he has as good a stuff as anybody in camp...
...needed soy sauce, and the lettuce annoyed me, but what made it better than anything from a more conventional Chinese restaurant was the atmosphere--orange plastic tables, linoleum floors, bring-your-own beer, the clatter and sizzle of the open kitchens. The people sitting next to us were so close, I felt like I should offer them a bite. After all, there was so much on the plate, I couldn't finish it myself...
...from a distance, the train of the future looks like an overgrown bobsled on stilts. As it approaches on its track, 23 ft. above the ground, it fails almost all the tests of recognition: there are no engines, no wheels, no rails. Most astonishing of all, there is no clatter, no rumble, no screech. As the train hurtles by, there is only a vast whoosh, the sound of air being parted by a vehicle traveling at close to 300 m.p.h...
...with her index finger. The kids imitate the sound and start giggling. "Don't laugh at each other! We're here to learn!" scolds the redhead. Silence. Then a few whispers in Zulu. "Heee, heee, haaa, haaa!" sings the teacher. More giggles. When class is finally dismissed, the kids clatter up a narrow staircase, whistling and ululating. The doors are plastered with bumper stickers: KIDS ZONE, BABYLAND BLVD, I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND...