Let's see what you can do with: dust.
Because Kat and I were in the garden this afternoon when a random wind storm came raging out of nowhere. It cut diagonally across the garden, carrying a big cloud of dust with it, and headed straight for me. All I could do was duck my head, close my eyes and mouth, and hold my hat.
Also because I've been looking over my 2009 NaNoWriMo novel, Lessons in the Dust, recently.
Inspector Evans opened the door and stepped into the library. The deceased had an impressive collection of books which filled several bookcases, each of them brushing the ceiling. A brief examination showed that they were arranged alphabetically by author.
He moved to the window and pulled the curtain back just enough to peer down at the front yard. He eyed the officers and TV reporters before his gaze shifted to the onlookers gathered on the far side of the police tape. Studying each face closely, he wondered if one of them was responsible for ruining his morning.
Turning away, he walked slowly around the room, deep in thought. The room had obviously not seen much use, he noted, as all of the book spines were covered with a fine layer of dust.
Evans stopped, then turned and retraced his steps. He leaned toward a book that had caught his attention, holding his breath, his nose mere inches away from its surface.
"All of them," he amended his earlier thought, "except one."