лицо

A child is drawing a funny face with a finger on the fogged-up window.

My face can turn red in the sun.

Then he returns from somewhere with a smiling face.

In the window of the minibus the sky is reflected, and people’s faces look as if they are thinking about something important.

At home we took off our wet jackets, turned on the warm light, and for a long time still remembered how the snowflakes were flying into our faces.

Now I understand what seemed strange to me at the beginning: the female witness had too calm a face.