Parallelism

Monica brewed espresso, steamed milk, and told jokes as she prepared Mike’s latte.

Natasha tried holding her breath, chewing a piece of gum, and poking her belly, but she could not quiet her empty stomach.

In the restroom, Tishena was brushing her hair, freshened her lip-gloss, and took deep breaths, trying to work up the courage to walk to her first speech class.

Celine looked behind the toilet, in the laundry basket, and checked under the bed, but she could not find Squeeze, her nine-foot albino python.

Chelsea had to paddle past a school of jellyfish, kick a small sand shark in the nose, and untangle seaweed from her surfboard before she reached her favorite point break.

Spiders that bite, hissing snakes, and squealing rodents fill the aquariums in Desmond’s basement.

Class with Dr. Rogers was a nightmare: the clock seemed stuck in place, the air conditioner blew inadequate cool, and the fluorescent bulb buzzed overhead.

Ernie is too noisy as a seatmate. Crunching on apple slices, slurping hot coffee, and the rings of his notebook snapped open and shut.

Until the family arrived home at 5 p.m., the clock ticked, the refrigerator hummed, and the dog snoring in the otherwise quiet house.

Mark looked under the bed, in the hamper, and inside his brother’s closet, but he could not find his favorite University of Florida T-shirt.