Taking one of the white roads, I eventually found a small village.

The little car gave a deep growl and tore off down the white road.

So I sat there, watching the cars come down the long white road.

It was losing blood fast, and we left a red trail upon the white, dusty road.

He let the car forwards, down the hill, and on to the white road that led across the lake bed.

The man turned without saying anything, and started back up the white road into Spain.

We all got in the car and it started up the white dusty road into Spain.

He tried to call up the image of the white road into Fairhaven.

I looked out of the open window at the white road.

I looked out over the empty white road to the sky and saw the morning sun sparkling.