breathing - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Cairo grins at me in his teenager way, part love part mischief. "You are now breathing... on automatic," he says. And so suddenly that process I was unaware of is there in my thoughts and as my breathing pattern changes he laughs in the same way he did as a little child. So I laugh too, and then there we are, too beautiful idiots laughing together on a rainy day.
Miranda breathes like she has made it an art form, her chest rising and falling with the sedative qualities of a lullaby. The night is so quiet that Tim can hear each breath with ease. A smile creeps onto his face and he simply lets it sit there, warming his face against the newly cooler air of late fall.
I took breathing for granted until the day you stole the air from my lungs. I took it for granted until my ribs became steel traps. The cozy world we lived in was nothing but a one way mirror and you were on the other side all along. There were nights I'd wake breathing as if my body was starved of oxygen, gasping. There were times it came in short and shallow bursts. There were times it was hard to breathe for tears fell like hurricane rain. And then at the moment you couldn't fain not to notice you told me of your "problems" and lied while you did it - anything to keep up your illusions, your control. Now my chest is more steady, eyes becoming accustomed to the less rosy light. It's not that you brought a wolf to my door, it's that I never knew it was already within the walls.
His breath seemed to stutter in his lungs before he let it go, feeling the tension drain from his body. His breathing returned to normal and he felt as if he could face the problem.
He let out a burning ball of air that was searing the walls of his lungs
Olivia pulls her hands around her knees, hugging them so close that they dig into her chest. All she hears is Hans breathing, a sound that once brought her peace. Now with every intake she feels the invisible noose around her neck grow tighter and the door, the street, the fields beyond are all the further away.
Darcy breathed as if no air would ever be enough, as if she were a drowning victim suddenly brought up from the depths. She was on her knees, hands on the gravel, her long hair almost touching the ground.
The steady breathing that Kelvin had had in motion gave way to deeper puffs when he stopped, leaning his bike to one side, face suddenly flushed.
Against the traffic I can't hear Amber's breath, yet I feel it. This is how she likes to sleep, so close but not touching.