The shirt rose into the air and hung above my head.
Connor's shirt hung over a post instead of his back.
The shirt was hanging from one arm as he stumbled into the bathroom.
His shirt hung loose from shoulders that had once been broad and strong.
It did not seem he intended to progress beyond letting his shirt hang down.
A tiny pink shirt hung on a branch of a tree.
The buttons were finally undone, and the shirt hung open.
When she climbed out of bed, the shirt hung halfway to her knees.
My hand was on his chest where his shirt hung open.
His uniform shirt, hanging on a branch, would be kept clean for a final display.
