The big head slid past him, toward the rear of the car.

From the far end of table, something slid toward him across the surface.

Something small and brown was moving, sliding toward the couch.

He opened them and slid one toward his father, then sat again.

He slid his hands toward both sides of her back.

And something came sliding toward him across the sea bottom.

He slid the black box across the table top toward the white one.

What about the coming decades, as we slide toward the edge?

His right side felt damp as he slid toward the ground.

And all of them seemed to be sliding toward him.