daylight - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Today the light is oddly bright, casting the seagulls into dark shadows against a sky of palest blue. Their wings beat, hugging the air as they drift on unseen thermals. For a few moments they have Axel's eye, keeping him spun into some sort of daydream.
We emerge from the steps as a new unit, but it can only be temporary. He's slung over my hip, nothing but a few candy bars for God knows how long doesn't make a kid strong and moving slow is something I never do. He raises a diminutive hand to the brilliant sun rays, after so long in the cave-like subway his retinas are unaccustomed to any light at all. His clothing is every-bit as fashionable as I had thought. Under this intense daylight his sweater is cherry red close-knit wool and his cargo pants are bright blue. It's like carrying around a freakin' target. A dull jacket will be the second thing we do after a high protein meal. After a few minutes he's peeking through his fingers, maybe he hasn't seen the street for a while. I rarely see it by day either but I'm struck at how it is still so grey even bathed in sunlight. Store banners that were once the only splashes of colour are extinguished and their wares are either behind steel shutters or looted.
Found in Darwin's Ghost - first draft, authored by .
It is becoming more common for people to move about in the daylight hours, through I'm not sure it's wise. The blanket of night feels like protection to me and the light of the day spooky. It lays everything bare, naked, free for all to probe with their eyes. There are rumours of a market starting, a place to trade. Sometimes I wonder if I would remember how to speak if I opened my mouth to say more than my customary nod and grunt. The idea of so many people in one place fills me with dread but it would be useful. I snatched many of my items in bulk and am missing other things I need. Mostly the world at this time is still grey, the city always is, but the watery morning light makes the sky blue and next to my all black outfit my skin is ghostly. I'm sure once my nerves settle I will enjoy these days out in the warm rays; they feel like my mother's smile, softly radiant. They evoke memories of playing on the swings in a light floral dress and the first flowers after snow.
Found in Darwin's Ghost - first draft, authored by .
The daylight hasn't touched my skin in these many months, not since my incarceration. Now they have decided I'm no longer a threat, not to "myself or others." But I never was, not really. I sink into a hospital garden bench, still not free to leave, but able to suck in the fresh air on this side of the mean windows. The rays don't just bring brilliant colours to energize my sagging spirit, they are warm. I had forgotten that daylight was warm as well as bright. I suppose it must be spring now, there are daffodils and pansies waving in the warm breeze. I have an hour to bask, to soak it up and feel alive, then the cold doors will lock behind me, my "privilege" over for another day. I have no way of telling the time except by the shadows and I never was much good at that. Likely I will head back early for fear of being late, then peer at the outside from the bleach-scented ward once more.
The watery daylight pushed back at the darkened edges of dawn, reclaiming the colours of day that had been washed into grey by the moonlit night. The world came back like a freshly developed photograph, every colour bright and new.
The warm sun rays kissed her skin lightly, warming her from the inside out.
Streams of sunlight fell through the thick wall of trees, filling up every space between the leaves with warm, sugary light. The rays tumbled down strands of grass, which gleamed with remains of the morning dew. The sky has ripened from a fresh orange color into a pale blue. Wisps of white clouds stood unmoving. They were so thin, they appeared to be stray brush marks on blue canvas, or traces of powdered sugar on a baker's azure counter top.
The sun shone brightly, glinting off the shimmering water and reflecting like crystals. The rays cascaded over the grass and penetrated even the darkest shadows. Heat rose from the ground in waves, creating the illusion of rippling water. The only escape from the scorching sunlight was beneath the oak trees that lined the shore, and even some dappled light streamed through the leaves, leaving tiny shapes on the ground in intricate patterns.
The silvery daylight shone through the gap in the pines and cut across the chilled winter dew like a cold knife. It sliced across the rough pile of mud that was all that indicated where her body lay.
I was lying on the deck of our small hire boat just soaking up the sun late afternoon. The heat was beating down, I could feel beads of sweat running off my face. I knew it was too hot but once in a while a breeze gently folded over my body, and with it, it felt like it took the heat out of my skin. I had to lay a few moments longer, it was a rare occasion to be feel selfish and to enjoy it. My wife on the other hand is taking pictures on the boat and of the sea to remember the special occasion. I could hear the fake camera phone snapping every few minutes. The boat was bouncing gently in the water, it couldn't be a more typical setting to take photos and enjoy the experience. There was a few more hours of daylight and we needed to sail back to shore.