Before they could say another word, she turned and ran over the hot sand toward her bike.

Then he started groping his way over the hot sand.

I'd end up sitting on the hot sand looking out at the breaking waves.

Almost as if they finally found the hot sands underneath too much.

For a while he lay upon the hot sand, resting.

He was a boy again, playing in the hot sand of a forgotten summer.

Coming out of the mountains was like stepping onto hot sand.

It looked like a mirage, so much water in the middle of the hot sand.

I walk quickly, the sand warm but not hot beneath my feet.

Then there was sand, hot and rough on her skin.