lifeless - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Carter lies in the half-light, utterly still, eyes open as if admiring the heavens. As my footfalls approach, crunching the gravel he remains still and a cursory glance is enough to know he is dead. His lips are blue, skin grey, eyes dull with exploded pupils. He is as lifeless as the fall leaves that gust around him, though they at least get one last dance.
There is no such thing as a beautiful body when death has claimed the soul. There is no romantic corpse. Death is death. The flesh rots, the bones to follow, the hair matting into the soil. It is life that is beautiful, life we cherish, the soul we nurture.
I never wanted to see Josie in death, just to recall her vibrant smile, but everyone said it was part of letting go. She lay on the bed, tucked in as if it mattered, perfect "hospital corners." There was no greyness, simply a lack of the usual pink in her cheeks. My hand found hers without thinking and recoiled just as fast - so cold. Then I knew, knew why they wanted me to see her. It wasn't her at all, just her body. I was the only one in that hospital room and I had to know that. She was gone. I expected to cry yet in truth I felt nothing at all, felt as if I'd never feel anything ever again.
When the soul has departed, what is a body? When the warmth leaves the blood and the limbs become stiff, it is a ghoulish thing. Everything science can measure is still there - every atom - yet it isn't the same at all. The soul had been recalled to our maker and what is left is simply bones and flesh. So as I use my body to move Jackson from the bed he loved so much, feeling his dead weight, I know that my body isn't me - simply a necessary vessel for my life.
Eyes that once danced with light are now vacant and staring. The once rosy complexion is waxy and pale. The mouth that was so quick to smile in life lies stiff and agape. The lips that kissed me as a child are blue and cold. The arms that held me tight when I was sad or lost, that wrapped me in warmth and security are arranged on the tile like the limbs of a rag doll violently thrown. The legs that used to push me in my pram and run after me in the park are twisted up unnaturally into a position no living person could maintain. And if all that wasn't enough there is a dark red pool under her head, matting her grey-streaked hair and smelling like an abattoir. Even with all this, staring at her lifeless form I cannot believe she is gone. Something that powerfully alive cannot just disappear.
Swiftly Leaping forward, he lays a dangerous hard punch on his victims’ chest, knocking the air out of his victims’ lungs and sending the body flying. It lands on the cold wet pavement. Lifeless.
Inga, so fragile in life, was stoic in death. Her breath had become short just like her father's in his final days and her energy seemed to drain into the soil with each step. In her finest dress, a dagger concealed, bewitchingly beautiful, she went to the overlord. At her first chance she sunk the blade deep into his neck, staggering backwards into the guards as the walls sprayed crimson. By dawn she was hung, her lifeless body greeting the rising sun.
Parker's eyes were like those fish we see in the market, glossy and dark, sunken just a little. His hair moved in the evening breeze and his dress-shirt billowed - the rest of him utterly still. Otherwise he was like a movie extra sprawled on the grass, his natural honey hue toned down by clever make-up. Leo kneeled at his side, touching his hand to his chest and then listening, feeling for a pulse in vain.