The shade climbed up the hills toward the top.

On the sand banks the rabbits sat as quietly as little gray sculptured stones.

Lennie dabbled his big paw in the water and wiggled his fingers so the water arose in little splashes; rings widened across the pool to the other side and came back again.

His huge companion dropped his blankets and flung himself down and drank from the surface of the green pool; drank with long gulps, snorting into the water like a horse.

"Give it here!” Lennie’s closed hand slowly obeyed.

A water snake slipped along on the pool, its head held up like a little periscope.

Far off toward the highway a man shouted something, and another man shouted back. The sycamore limbs rustled under a little wind that died immediately.

Which is your favorite literary term?