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.