The top of the white rock was now slick with blood.
The white rocks gave way, as we climbed higher, to red.
Everywhere he looked there were more of the huge white rocks.
It is made of large white rocks which can be seen from a great distance.
Only a large white rock, but it was too far away to reach with his hands.
Once I sat down on one of those white rocks, and he kicked me.
He held the white rock above the gray one, then below it.
Then he opened his eyes and looked hard at the stubborn white rock.
Today there are only white rocks where the flowers used to be.
He heard a sound of feet sliding down white rock.
