Down, quills, hollow bones. All of this a bird owns. One more word fits the group, how indeed to fly the coop?

In your hand it holds magic, moments captured, stories unfold. A click and flash, memories last, a window to the present and past.

A wife shoots her husband with a thirty-five mm automatic. Several times, including the head and some unmentionable places. Then they have a lovely dinner together. How is this possible?

I could describe defeat in battle or a departure from grace the change from awake to asleep or from health to illness the embrace of love or the snare of lies

I store your clothes or slow your pace, one word that fits in either case.