Crawling on the floor in desperation, her eyes searched the hallway for signs of life. A faint glow seeped out from the door on the left. She chanced a look over her shoulder, and saw nothing but darkness. But she could hear him coming.
He sat with his back to the light, so that his face was thrown into silhouette. She knew he had done it deliberately, so that she could not read his expression, and wondered what she would see if she could.
She was backlit by cherry organza lights. Just the kind of thing a boy wants to see, except she was still in silhouette. When the scarves fell, a giant whoosh, his breath stopped. She was black on white. House lights up. Hosiery down. He said the only swear word he knew, in Italian.
Ugh. This is the second time in a row (though not the second day in a row) where my brain goes blank when I see the word. I suppose I could describe the image that sprang to mind: It was a picture frame on a glass wall, backlit by blue light. Actually, it was really weird, and it really didn’t bring any story to my brain or anything like that, but it was kind of a cool image. Lame entry is lame. :/
The stage was was large and all the actors were in there place. Everything was set to go, what was missing however the backlit, it appeared to be too dark in some areas and the show was held up until the problem was resolve.
The lights on the stage were bright. They hurt her eyes when she turned in place, reciting, speaking, talking out to the audience. She was at the centre of the stage. The focus was on her. She hated it. She was like a flame, a beacon, a ray of light, shining, shimmering, drawing the audience like moths to a flame. They were enthralled. She was self-conscious.
Abi
The photo was backlit, obscuring all the details of the subject’s face. Through the haze you could make out sunglasses, and short hair styled in the trend of the day. And..blurry through the haze – a wry smile at the photographer. Not joyful or blissed out but in on some kind of joke, maybe some affection even.
backlit by the sun i raised my hands to the sky
and yelled,” Sky always blue. Moon never cease to send me dreams.”
and I spun, and spun
until the morrow.
“Wow, thats…amazing” mira took a few steps closer and lifted her hand, slowly, without hesitation she ran her fingers over the monsters hard face. His wrinkles were deep, eyes that were pit-less and black, back lit by only the light of her reflection. From then… she knew he was purely harmless. Nothing to be afraid of anymore.
The girl stood at the edge of the precipice. That’s all that I could see. This tiny silhouette, backlit by the dying ember that was the sun. I wanted to call out, pull her away from that ledge, but the two halves of my mind were on two different planets, one admiring the eerie beauty of this girl in danger, and the other crying out for me to save her.
God is the creator of all majesty and beauty. When he backlit the clouds with the sun He produced the most wonderful picture worthy any photographic opportunity.
After seeing the room we both thought intensily about what we could do about all this. A little backlit, a little new painting, maybe some ikebana here or there. We had our plans, it was both in our eyes and minds
The dark door had a backlit to it this doesn’t make sense at all .
As the creepy old man broke into the young man’s house he accidently turned on the lights. The man, in bed, noticed the backlit to his door ok this doesn’t make snes
Jule
The dark door had a backlit to it this doesn’t make sense at all .
As the creepy old man broke into the young man’s house he accidently turned on the lights. The man, in bed, noticed the backlit to his door ok this doesn’t make snes
Jule
She walks in the shadows of that person’s light, never able to step out of the light her older sister was.
Yap Ching Yit
He leaned forward, and turned his head to the side, silently gazing at Maria. His profile was thrown into sharp relief, an effect of being backlit – his eyelashes cast long shadows across his cheekbone, his one grey eye that wasn’t hidden in the shadows seeming almost colourless, his scar-
His hand flew to his cheek, as though it had just occurred to him what the light would reveal, had revealed – but Maria grabbed his fingers before they made contact with his cheek. Her fingers curled gently around his, her hand slowly tugging his down onto her lap. He wanted to resist, wanted to hide his imperfection (Imperfections, he thought, surpressing a shudder as he tried not to think about what must me going through her mind), but this was the girl he’d been in love with all his life, this was the girl who had known him before the accident, and continued to love him after despite his trying his damnedest to insist that he wasn’t the one she was looking for, that no one who looked like her should ever be with anyone who looked like him, and-
‘You don’t have to hide from me.’ she whispered, and he could feel her lean closer, resting against his side. His eyes fluttered shut, and he released the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
I looked off in the distance at the way he rode away on his black horse. It was at that moment that another young man came riding up to me on a white horse.
I was driving back home one night. I took the highway as it’s empty during the blackouts. Suddenly I bump into a young girl dressed in pink with her back lit with colorful fireflies. no, i wasn’t drunk. No, I couldn’t stop to give her a lift. I wish I could do the latter.
Shiladitya Saha
The backlight of my computer screen just never seems bright enough. As I sit here typing in the darkness of my bedroom, the too-early morning wearing on painfully slowly, I can’t help but slam my finger down on the button in hopes of somehow forcing the light past its limit. It’s never bright enough when it’s the only light I have.
backlit silhouette, the witch prays
the wizards conjure
spirits raised
Vijayalakshmi
I walked away without a second thought. I couldn’t handle their bickering, carelesnnes, and their destructive lives. I had to think about me. My past was dark but I could rebuild myself and begin the foundations for my future. But first, I had to leave my family behind.
Your face, backlit by the moonlight, glanced at me with your piercing blue eyes. We were on the porch, outside of the home that we had grown to love and grown to hate at the same time. I didn’t know it then, but I know it now. You knew it then and now it’s too late.
jessica s.
I walk in the dark, past my old best friend’s house, on toward the backlit streets beyond. This walk is so ingrained, so memorized, so normal. When I walk it after so many months, it feels as though I’m twelve all over again, late for dinner, rushing so as not to get scolded, eating quickly to run back down and play some more before the dark enveloped the skies. Now I don’t worry about the stars. I’m old enough to walk home in the dark, old enough to know my way home, old enough to follow the stars back to where I came from.
All that was illuminated was her shadow,
And yet it was more than enough.
She moved through the air,
Silk upon the wind,
And the shape of her body spoke to my soul.
This was no ordinary encounter.
She was a goddess among mortals,
and her divine beauty was so strong,
that if I had seen her true form,
I would have turned to ash.
The bedroom was backlit, the orange glow resonating from the closest street lamp that was threatening to flicker from gold to red and then nothing. But I relied on that light. I used it to create shadow characters on the wall, such as butterflies and dogs and all the nice little critters that my mother had taught me to like and approve of. But then things became different. The shadows became more complicated.
Sometimes I couldn’t exactly control my hands. Other times, the shapes seemed creepier. I couldn’t understand it. Neither could the shadows.
Belinda Roddie
The clouds were backlit by sunbeams streaming out in every direction. I stared at them in awe, wondering. Will a choir of angels appear singing an ethereal concert? Could a mother ship filled with aliens be preparing to burst into view fully equipped with lasers at the ready? Was a infant star trapped in the unassuming cloud? Were those tiny beams of light actually stress cracks from it’s hiding place or perhaps an the start of its impending birth? Could I ride up one stream of light and hide from the world? Could I slide down one shaft and giggle at the world rushing by? A darker cloud insinuated itself between us trying to block out the shimmer of wonder above me. But the tiny cloud took on the battle, piercing the darker front with needles of sunrays. The dark threat burst apart, dismembered and fading into oblivion, slayed by the light.
It was amazing, i had never seen her face backlit by the sun the way it was, the night i told her how much I loved her. and even though she knew we wouldn’t be together anymore, the backlight made her look like a content angel. If only everything was backlit in the same way all the time The world would be less dreary.
Chelsea Myers
a backlit stairway in grade school
leading to your happy trail.
your eyes are so endearing when you lay beside me.
one wor dis a good one word . and it is beautiful one word. it gives good confidence one words. one words are important at all.
nidheesh
backlit, legit and can’t lift it. why are we caring now? makes you wonder what’s new and why? sometime behind the scenes is as important as what you see.
sg
The moon had an eerie glow to it that night. The car continued to drift down the snowy highway, it’s engine dead, and it’s headlights backlighting the macbre sight in front of me. The explosion had thrown bodies through the air like ragdolls, and back lit against the moon, they looked like puppets of the sky. Ready to discover a new purpose.
Max Ryder
I am really interested in drawing and then painting some backlit pictures. I would call them silhouettes.
Backlit stages, back lit skies,
Backlit faces, backlit eyes.
She smiled and ran, she smiled and fled,
She smiled and jumped, she smiled and bled.
Crawling on the floor in desperation, her eyes searched the hallway for signs of life. A faint glow seeped out from the door on the left. She chanced a look over her shoulder, and saw nothing but darkness. But she could hear him coming.
He sat with his back to the light, so that his face was thrown into silhouette. She knew he had done it deliberately, so that she could not read his expression, and wondered what she would see if she could.
She was backlit by cherry organza lights. Just the kind of thing a boy wants to see, except she was still in silhouette. When the scarves fell, a giant whoosh, his breath stopped. She was black on white. House lights up. Hosiery down. He said the only swear word he knew, in Italian.
Ugh. This is the second time in a row (though not the second day in a row) where my brain goes blank when I see the word. I suppose I could describe the image that sprang to mind: It was a picture frame on a glass wall, backlit by blue light. Actually, it was really weird, and it really didn’t bring any story to my brain or anything like that, but it was kind of a cool image. Lame entry is lame. :/
darkness is god’s creation,
not yours
(you’ve only ever sought
to illuminate,
after all)
he made black holes in His image,
capable of total obliteration
(damnation is
the closest thing you’ve got)
so hell is a bright, beautiful
if but lonely place
(the light flocks to you, loves you,
you couldn’t stop shining
if you tried)
The stage was was large and all the actors were in there place. Everything was set to go, what was missing however the backlit, it appeared to be too dark in some areas and the show was held up until the problem was resolve.
The lights on the stage were bright. They hurt her eyes when she turned in place, reciting, speaking, talking out to the audience. She was at the centre of the stage. The focus was on her. She hated it. She was like a flame, a beacon, a ray of light, shining, shimmering, drawing the audience like moths to a flame. They were enthralled. She was self-conscious.
The photo was backlit, obscuring all the details of the subject’s face. Through the haze you could make out sunglasses, and short hair styled in the trend of the day. And..blurry through the haze – a wry smile at the photographer. Not joyful or blissed out but in on some kind of joke, maybe some affection even.
backlit by the sun i raised my hands to the sky
and yelled,” Sky always blue. Moon never cease to send me dreams.”
and I spun, and spun
until the morrow.
“Wow, thats…amazing” mira took a few steps closer and lifted her hand, slowly, without hesitation she ran her fingers over the monsters hard face. His wrinkles were deep, eyes that were pit-less and black, back lit by only the light of her reflection. From then… she knew he was purely harmless. Nothing to be afraid of anymore.
The girl stood at the edge of the precipice. That’s all that I could see. This tiny silhouette, backlit by the dying ember that was the sun. I wanted to call out, pull her away from that ledge, but the two halves of my mind were on two different planets, one admiring the eerie beauty of this girl in danger, and the other crying out for me to save her.
God is the creator of all majesty and beauty. When he backlit the clouds with the sun He produced the most wonderful picture worthy any photographic opportunity.
Her silhouette on the monitor was backlit by the flames.
“Send everything you’ve got – the whole world’s on fire,” she shouted.
“There’s nothing left,” I whispered into the microphone.
“Nothing at all?”
The flames crackled.
“My god, we’ll all… I better go.” She turned the video feed off, but I could here her panting as she ran.
I covered the microphone so she wouldn’t hear my sobbing.
relationships in thirds contained
triangulate
in the image of mother
father wears leather
her shoes are red
they pose.
After seeing the room we both thought intensily about what we could do about all this. A little backlit, a little new painting, maybe some ikebana here or there. We had our plans, it was both in our eyes and minds
I’m got nothing for this. I should, but I don’t.
The dark door had a backlit to it this doesn’t make sense at all .
As the creepy old man broke into the young man’s house he accidently turned on the lights. The man, in bed, noticed the backlit to his door ok this doesn’t make snes
The dark door had a backlit to it this doesn’t make sense at all .
As the creepy old man broke into the young man’s house he accidently turned on the lights. The man, in bed, noticed the backlit to his door ok this doesn’t make snes
She walks in the shadows of that person’s light, never able to step out of the light her older sister was.
He leaned forward, and turned his head to the side, silently gazing at Maria. His profile was thrown into sharp relief, an effect of being backlit – his eyelashes cast long shadows across his cheekbone, his one grey eye that wasn’t hidden in the shadows seeming almost colourless, his scar-
His hand flew to his cheek, as though it had just occurred to him what the light would reveal, had revealed – but Maria grabbed his fingers before they made contact with his cheek. Her fingers curled gently around his, her hand slowly tugging his down onto her lap. He wanted to resist, wanted to hide his imperfection (Imperfections, he thought, surpressing a shudder as he tried not to think about what must me going through her mind), but this was the girl he’d been in love with all his life, this was the girl who had known him before the accident, and continued to love him after despite his trying his damnedest to insist that he wasn’t the one she was looking for, that no one who looked like her should ever be with anyone who looked like him, and-
‘You don’t have to hide from me.’ she whispered, and he could feel her lean closer, resting against his side. His eyes fluttered shut, and he released the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
The backlit automotive robot rushed towards us with a sneezing mechanical sound revealing out of the creaky pace.
I looked off in the distance at the way he rode away on his black horse. It was at that moment that another young man came riding up to me on a white horse.
Yes, this one would be different…he would last.
I was driving back home one night. I took the highway as it’s empty during the blackouts. Suddenly I bump into a young girl dressed in pink with her back lit with colorful fireflies. no, i wasn’t drunk. No, I couldn’t stop to give her a lift. I wish I could do the latter.
The backlight of my computer screen just never seems bright enough. As I sit here typing in the darkness of my bedroom, the too-early morning wearing on painfully slowly, I can’t help but slam my finger down on the button in hopes of somehow forcing the light past its limit. It’s never bright enough when it’s the only light I have.
backlit negatives revive memories
backlit silhouette, the witch prays
the wizards conjure
spirits raised
I walked away without a second thought. I couldn’t handle their bickering, carelesnnes, and their destructive lives. I had to think about me. My past was dark but I could rebuild myself and begin the foundations for my future. But first, I had to leave my family behind.
Your face, backlit by the moonlight, glanced at me with your piercing blue eyes. We were on the porch, outside of the home that we had grown to love and grown to hate at the same time. I didn’t know it then, but I know it now. You knew it then and now it’s too late.
I walk in the dark, past my old best friend’s house, on toward the backlit streets beyond. This walk is so ingrained, so memorized, so normal. When I walk it after so many months, it feels as though I’m twelve all over again, late for dinner, rushing so as not to get scolded, eating quickly to run back down and play some more before the dark enveloped the skies. Now I don’t worry about the stars. I’m old enough to walk home in the dark, old enough to know my way home, old enough to follow the stars back to where I came from.
All that was illuminated was her shadow,
And yet it was more than enough.
She moved through the air,
Silk upon the wind,
And the shape of her body spoke to my soul.
This was no ordinary encounter.
She was a goddess among mortals,
and her divine beauty was so strong,
that if I had seen her true form,
I would have turned to ash.
The bedroom was backlit, the orange glow resonating from the closest street lamp that was threatening to flicker from gold to red and then nothing. But I relied on that light. I used it to create shadow characters on the wall, such as butterflies and dogs and all the nice little critters that my mother had taught me to like and approve of. But then things became different. The shadows became more complicated.
Sometimes I couldn’t exactly control my hands. Other times, the shapes seemed creepier. I couldn’t understand it. Neither could the shadows.
The clouds were backlit by sunbeams streaming out in every direction. I stared at them in awe, wondering. Will a choir of angels appear singing an ethereal concert? Could a mother ship filled with aliens be preparing to burst into view fully equipped with lasers at the ready? Was a infant star trapped in the unassuming cloud? Were those tiny beams of light actually stress cracks from it’s hiding place or perhaps an the start of its impending birth? Could I ride up one stream of light and hide from the world? Could I slide down one shaft and giggle at the world rushing by? A darker cloud insinuated itself between us trying to block out the shimmer of wonder above me. But the tiny cloud took on the battle, piercing the darker front with needles of sunrays. The dark threat burst apart, dismembered and fading into oblivion, slayed by the light.
It was amazing, i had never seen her face backlit by the sun the way it was, the night i told her how much I loved her. and even though she knew we wouldn’t be together anymore, the backlight made her look like a content angel. If only everything was backlit in the same way all the time The world would be less dreary.
a backlit stairway in grade school
leading to your happy trail.
your eyes are so endearing when you lay beside me.
one wor dis a good one word . and it is beautiful one word. it gives good confidence one words. one words are important at all.
backlit, legit and can’t lift it. why are we caring now? makes you wonder what’s new and why? sometime behind the scenes is as important as what you see.
The moon had an eerie glow to it that night. The car continued to drift down the snowy highway, it’s engine dead, and it’s headlights backlighting the macbre sight in front of me. The explosion had thrown bodies through the air like ragdolls, and back lit against the moon, they looked like puppets of the sky. Ready to discover a new purpose.
I am really interested in drawing and then painting some backlit pictures. I would call them silhouettes.