She didn't relax until they emerged onto the street, away from the Guardian.
It was light enough to see a long way in the deserted street and it seemed more like morning or evening than night.
It was New York and raining pussies and puppies and I was on a street corner with cabs going by one after the other.
She unfastened the seatbelt, all but falling into the street as he yanked her out.
He turned onto Franz Josef Street, where he was not supposed to have been, and drove right in front of a surprised Princip.
Lamplighters used to light street lamps every night, before the accursed electricity came along.
I was in a small town, on the main street with cars and people all around.
I could see mountains, high hills, at the end of the street ahead of me.
The town was fairly large with a dozen or so business buildings on each side of the street but, as I said, most were closed.
Store fronts interspersed with vacant lots lined one side of the street while the other remained absent of any buildings except a closed gas station and a dollar store.
Howie bounded out of the car and crossed to the newer side of the street where he had a better view of the few older buildings that remained.
A red brick municipal building stood at the far end of the street ahead of us.
The street he was on looked as it had on the television he said, but the houses were absent numbers so it took him a few moments to locate the correct place.
The police blamed street violence though the neighborhood was wrong and girl had no known gang involvement.
For working quarters we secured a thirty year old building, recently vacated, on the beautiful main street of Keene.
But sorry, they were as in the dark as the man on the street as to source or circumstance.
We strolled back to my stolen car and drove away, taking back street to avoid intersection cameras.
We strolled up the main street, rumored to be the widest in the country, but I don't know who measures.
It was past lunch time so the three of us dropped by The Main Street Café for a late lunch.
Maybe I'll get a room in a high rise hotel, away from street noise.
I made it to the circle park at the head of Main Street and drank in the sunshine on a park bench.
I drove south toward town on the West Surry Road but instead of following Court Street, turned back north west on the Old Walpole to Howie's home.
I had a couple of Sam Adams and a roast beef sandwich and arrived at the 30th Street station in Philadelphia just before four o'clock.
My place was on the street behind theirs, one house over so the corners of our lots touched.
Loreto Plaza Shopping Center up on State Street isn't a large ...
Cody, sprawled in the middle of the street after being hit by a car, blood trickling from his skull into a nearby storm drain.
She walked up the street to a better vantage point, curious to see what he hit.
She froze at the sight straight out of her vision—the little boy, Cody, spread-eagled in the street near the storm drain.
Her headache was now a migraine, and she shielded her eyes against the light from the street that filtered past her honeycomb blinds.
The images in her mind were of a little boy dying in the street, of Jake's death, of the deaths of many others.
They all enjoyed the Main Street eatery, next to the newly renovated Beaumont Hotel, the queen's-castle of the Victorian town.
Half the street was in shadow, the other half brightly lit by the sun.
He went out into the street: two men were running past toward the bridge.
Once more something whistled, but this time quite close, swooping downwards like a little bird; a flame flashed in the middle of the street, something exploded, and the street was shrouded in smoke.
Soldiers were passing in a constant stream along the street blocking it completely, so that Alpatych could not pass out and had to wait.
In a side street near the crossroads where the vehicles had stopped, a house and some shops were on fire.
Seeing that his trap would not be able to move on for some time, Alpatych got down and turned into the side street to look at the fire.
Soldiers were continually rushing backwards and forwards near it, and he saw two of them and a man in a frieze coat dragging burning beams into another yard across the street, while others carried bundles of hay.
When he had ascended the hill and reached the little village street, he saw for the first time peasant militiamen in their white shirts and with crosses on their caps, who, talking and laughing loudly, animated and perspiring, were at work on a huge knoll overgrown with grass to the right of the road.
The sun, just bursting forth from behind a cloud that had concealed it, was shining, with rays still half broken by the clouds, over the roofs of the street opposite, on the dew- besprinkled dust of the road, on the walls of the houses, on the windows, the fence, and on Pierre's horses standing before the hut.
Telling the groom to follow him with the horses, Pierre went down the street to the knoll from which he had looked at the field of battle the day before.
"Here is our commanding officer... ask him," and he pointed to a stout major who was walking back along the street past the row of carts.