In the quiet that followed, his ears rang and the car hissed.

The car shivered and hissed, sank lower on its left side.

The car was already hissing back down the road.

She went silent again and the car hissed into a wall of rain.

Not far away the cars hissed over the Manhattan Bridge.

Yet the lit windows glared down balefully at me, and the cars still hissed by.

The car slowed further, stopped and the door hissed open.

Still, though, the car did hiss in and sigh as it settled down on the rail.

The antique car hissed every now and again and leaked steam.

The car hissed over the smooth soaked tarmac.