Tears made her vision blur again.
She couldn't make out what was in the garden, but she heard the sounds of fountains and saw the dark green blur of a forest in the distance.
She looked away, outside, at the blur of snow as he continued.
The afternoon was a blur as Dean's mind alternated between the task at hand and the sobering fact that he might be within miles, or perhaps yards, of Cynthia Byrne's missing husband.
Suddenly, a blur of brown streaked past the bathroom, tackling the demon.
There were scores of dots of color but Dean had little trouble catching sight of a yellow blur rounding a corner, further below than he would have guessed.
The riders were a blur in the heat waves, but she was sure one was Pete.
It was her fever dream without the heaviness of illness to blur it.
It took many days of mountain sunshine and the comforting routine of the bed and breakfast to blur the trauma of the Lucky Pup shooting.
The next fifteen minutes were an embarrassed blur as Dean tried to stem his bleeding face at the kitchen table.
The rest of the sermon was a blur, but she would always remember the exchanging of vows.
Her eyes were probably bloodshot and tears were beginning to blur her vision.
A blur of wings and darkness caught his attention.
The immortal launched himself at Jule, his knives a blur of glinting steel.
A blur of black shot between her and the attacker.
The night was a blur in her mind, a combination of strange, fuzzy dreams about blood and tossing and turning from the horrible fever.
"Goddammit, Rhyn!" she said, tears rising to blur her path.
A large group overtook them outside of Durango and they became separated in the pack as she became caught up in a blur of color and then was gone.
The great velocity with which the wing is driven converts the impression or blur made by it into what is equivalent to a solid for the time being, in the same way that the spokes of a wheel in violent motion, as is well understood, more or less completely substance of the wing.
Reaching her car, she drove home in a blur of tears.
She began to sweat before reaching the door leading from the patio to the green blur that was the gardens over which the patio overlooked.
There in the blur of a passing auto and mirrored in descending waves of rain was the huddled figure of Cynthia Byrne stumbling across the parking lot toward the road and the beach beyond.