He was gasping for air, and his chest burned.
My chest burned with a mixture of shame and something akin to happiness.
I struggled to breathe until my chest burned, and darkness took everything away.
His chest burned as he tried in vain to catch his breath.
His hands were shaking, and his chest burned with acid.
Her mouth was dry and her chest burned as she gulped in air.
My chest burned, throat bursting with the need to breathe.
His whole chest was an ugly deep red, beginning to blister around the edges, but burned worse than that in the center.
Only the chest had burned, and there was no evidence of a fire in the local vicinity that might account for his appalling death.
Her chest was burning along a sinuous track of tiny crimson bites.
