Air - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
The air on that planet had a rainbow swirl, as if bright inks were dropped into a current with precision. On the skin it felt as silk on a hot day, cool and smooth. It eddied around fingers as if it were water in some magic wishing well. Clarissa watched it, allowing time to stand still just for her, breathing it in.
Maverick sucked in the air as if nothing had ever been so sweet. Those three hours in the tunnel had felt like a week and he had breathed in the stale air as reluctantly as he did homework. The fragrance of summer grasses and meadow flowers had never been apparent to him before, but now they jumped out at him like a candy commercial. Nothing could make him go back in there. He was done with the games.
In the smokey room the air could be seen to swirl and eddy like water, it flowed around them and they had no choice but to breathe it in.
There was no wind and were it not for the biting cold Ben wouldn't have noticed the air at all. He was more accustomed to these temperatures meaning moisture, but it was tinder dry and dehydrated him every bit as fast as summer heat. With each breathe precious drops deserted him and his headache grew. The old snow at his feet was looking more inviting all the time and so every few minutes he ducked down to take some and place it on his tongue to melt.
When Alice woke next morning the cool upland air was flooding through the window, and a great dazzle of sunlight made the world glorious.
Micky would describe the air as like that in walk-in freezer, it had a certain moistness to it but it was as cold as hell.
The air was hot like it was fresh out of a bread oven, rising to blast our open eyes and kiss our faces with it's fiery breath.
There was a tension in the air, like static. It seemed to freeze people like they were fearful of being shocked.
The sweet rain-washed air drifted in through the open window.
The air was like a stagnant pool, it had the smell of something festering and rotting, and it was absolutely still, no breeze could be felt.
The air was fresh like an April breeze, but they knew it was artificial this deep down in the earth.
Air rushing in from an open window, fresh, clean, early morning air, brittle, transitory brightness, stale, dusty, rain drenched, winter's breath, chill, warm, river-smelling, sea breeze, sweet smelling air, tension quivered on the air, startled air
The air was heavy and humid, just walking through the garden he could feel the moisture clinging to his clothes. It felt thick as he breathed it in, coating the inside of his throat.
The wind was blowing in every direction, I couldn't see because of my auburn hair getting in my face no matter how many times I brushed it away, to normal people this was the typical terrible weather of England but to me it was peaceful.