The thin thread of love he'd tried to grasp was slowly slipping away from him.
His last thread of self-awareness slipped inexorably downward into night, as he battled, and failed, and lost consciousness.
The thread of argument slipped from her.
The threads he had gathered slipped from his grasp; the building surge of music settled back to a sweet hum.
Lifting a corner of the kimono, he showed how a few green threads slip into the blue ones, and a stray yellow one steals into the gray.
A new thread of concern slipped through the bond.
Then I halted--for my thread had slipped from me.
The thread in his head was slipping away.slipping away.
Like perfume, a thread of epsilon energy slipped past shields he no longer could raise, and her stroking became an inner caress, wickedly sweet as she kneaded his shoulders.