Silhouette - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Her silhouette is sleek and fluid like her smile in the dawn. For now she moves as if only a flowing outline of black, but the light will come, it always does.
Her silhouetted feet grace the ground like new petals on grass, soft and delicate. Yet without the light of the sun she is only a promise of her daytime beauty, flowing like a well loved monochrome photographs spun to life.
Often times I savour Grace's silhouette more than how she appears in the lamplight. In those moments, watching her move, I know that she is so much more than a pretty girl; she is love and laughter, the light of my life.
I've always thought of Ivan as my boy, yet now I see his silhouette I know he has grown to be a man. As he strolls toward the light of the porch he's all broad shoulders and strong limbs, his characteristic soft expression waiting for the golden illumination to to tumble onto his skin.
The old church stands silhouetted against the smog. I like it that way. Now you can't tell that the stained glass is shattered and the walls are caked in sooty streaks. I can imagine that the roof is still whole without the trouble of closing my eyes. In my mind this is Saturday night and tomorrow the bells will call us to worship. I will walk arm in arm with my mother and my father will fuss with the flower in his lapel. In the dark everything is as it was, even the tombstones are still neatly lined up as if the world still had order. But I can't stay here, this sentimentality will get me killed.
When we emerge from the old bank the street is just silhouettes. Darwin no longer recalls a time when the lamps illuminated the paths with their pools of yellow, shining off the rain-drops. Those lights used to make me feel safe when I locked up on wintry nights, but now they would scare the crap out of me. A light on you makes you the mark, the target. Being in the shadows makes you the hunter. That's what I teach Darwin, twelve and already taller than me. We navigate the city by silhouette only, unless it's market day there is no reason to risk the daylight. He has leant to move around the bank without making a noise, he has been vaulting over the old cash-desks with more grace than a cat. Now he is ready for night training. It cost me more than I would have thought I was willing to pay to get him his own dagger, but the piece of mind is worth it. As he moves away from me, no more than a black outline of an almost-man against the charcoal sky I say a prayer. "Watch over him, please."
Night has robbed us of the daytime colours. Ahead of me John is no more than a silhouette, I have only his fluid black out-line from which to guess his emotions. Right now he's relaxed, and that can only mean good things. It means that whatever is going on in his head is unlikely to derail the current plan. Tension means new ideas, new ideas mean unpredictable behaviours as he pushes against me to get his own way. One day our old bond won't be enough for me to keep him in check, but for now it's the only card I have left to play.
He stood in the doorway like a piece of the night, like someone had cut carefully around him and peeled him away, leaving only blackness behind.
Far in the distance the city stood upon the hill in the gathering gloom. Each building jutted into the darkening sky as if it had been drawn on with charcoal.