To the west, he saw a tiny thread of smoke rising toward the sky.

A tiny thread of smoke twisted up, then died away.

A tiny thread began to well up, the only sane reaction.

A tiny thread of a road led off to the left, and I pointed.

His calls were tiny lost threads in the great volume of weekend action there.

They watched as the dying man, holding onto a tiny thread of life spoke a few words to his assistant.

And yet beneath those emotions ran a tiny thread of something else.

I frowned at him, and just a tiny thread of anger came with it.

He was a tiny white thread of ego - cold and afraid.

He was a tiny white thread of ego-cold and afraid.