blackness - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
The blackness was perfect, a sort of visual silence that gave a revered awe. With eyes closed there was the simple sweetness of existing, of being, of breathing, and how those moments extended with such grace until the dawn chose to bring back the colours.
The blackness becomes my blanket of protection, a place for my heart to beat quietly in steady rhythm. All that comes to me is the warmth the sun gave to the daytime and the sounds of the other animals who love the night.
I watch as it seeps up through the joints in the floorboards and snakes out from dark corners and crevices. The blackness formed from some primeval hatred, and the collective despair of all those it’s taken before, closes in on the group, bleeding into their shadows cast by their own candlelight.
On this moonless night even the silhouettes are gone. The usual friendly smattering of stars is obscured utterly by dense cloud. Ordinarily I would stay in the old bank on a night like this but the Happy Boys took every pharmaceutical in the store. That's going to be the highest form of currency pretty soon, not to mention I might need the drugs myself someday. They are hauled up in what was once the police station. By day they are thick over the streets of the Eastside, armed to the teeth and firing bullets randomly into buildings or at strangers for target practice. I'm betting that by evening they are drunk and by night they are passed out. I can't assume they aren't smart enough to leave a sentry on duty, so despite the first bite of winter in the air I will have to be slow, silent, unseen.
Found in Darwin's Ghost - first draft, authored by .
The blackness engulfed my thoughts. Stretching out in front of me like a map, the unknown studied my fears, my courage and my knowledge. Taking tentative steps, the infinite exposure of the human flesh dawned. There was no life here. That was simple, no thriving population, no signs of past living. The darkness had overcome any sense of purity, consumed all hope of cleanliness and had wiped out all desire.
"In the blackness anything seems possible. No sight gives free reign to the imagination in a way that daylight renders impossible. You'll be driven by fear, your primal brain taking control. Every noise is going to be the same as a gunshot in the night and your mind will leap at even paranormal explanations. So, Helio, how rooted in reality do you think you are?"
... Into the blackness River went, the light of his torch dying before it illuminated anything of use. He'd always thought of light as something bold, shining into dark recesses without fear; but this was a black so inky and complete that it swallowed the scouting rays.
Without sun there was also no heat, not exactly a coldness but more a lack of warmth. With Willow far behind at the entrance all his senses could latch onto was the quiet echo of his footfalls and the rapid beating of his own heart...
The blackness had come slowly, stealing their ability to navigate the woodland paths. Were it summertime it would have been a quicker transition with leaves to block the gentler evening rays. Winter meant nothing to block the dwindling light allowing the world to fade away slowly until at last they could not see the leaves that crunched under their own boots.
Blackness came with such completeness it obliterated the memory of the day that had just been. With the thick cloud above no relief came from either the moon or stars. This was not the city with store and streetlights to stop anything ever becoming darker than twilight. It was the kind of blackness that could throw a mind into free-fall if only one more sense were to be removed.