I painted my nails red today.
Bright, shiny polish the color of blood coats my long, narrow, rounded fingertips.

The cat stretched out on the couch.
With pointed claws and a scrunched face, the feline elongated herself along the fur-ridden mustard couch, her tail curving into a satisfied curlicue.

He mowed the lawn.
Knowing that the girl next door was watching over the fence, he pushed the lawn mower with a firm grip across the green grass, cutting each blade evenly, flexing his glistening muscles every few minutes, like a duck preening its feathers for its mate.