Graves pointed to one of his screens, where the song appeared as a ragged sound wave.
More often, they seem like stations on some looping, ragged pilgrimage, my wave hound's Wanderjahre — a long search through a fallen world for shards of a lost bliss.
Then came the smoke, and the fire, and, eventually, a new wave of ragged survivors (or maybe the same ones) taking shelter in and scavenging from the ever-less-hospitable room.
A dozen civilians, men and women, were inching forward, waving a ragged white sheet.
The waves were big, ragged, relentless, with no visible channels for getting through the surf from the shore.
These ragged rocks rise out of the waves, blanketed in wiry heather-sprung moorland, trout-filled lochs and towering cliffs painted with seabirds, backed by dunes woven with wildflowers and fringed by some of the most glorious sweeps of sand in the world.
These beaches made Suchen think of a ragged shoreline in Ireland or the clashing waves of the North Sea at the mouth of a Norwegian fjord.
On the approach to the Charles de Gaulle bridge which links the southern islands of the Abidjan lagoon with the city centre, where the day before ragged-trousered militia had waved down the few cars that dared to move with AK-47s, a naked man slept curled into a ball under the flyover.
At breakfast, after the first wave of visitors flew away, one ragged bird that was perched in the corner of the window didn't leave with the rest.
