malaise \muh-LAYZ; -LEZ\, noun:
1. A vague feeling of discomfort in the body, as at the onset of illness.
2. A general feeling of depression or unease.
I hadn't noticed the sky - I had been too preoccupied with my work - until it was just about sunset. The world had taken on a yellow glow and my first instinct (there would be a snow storm) had turned out to be false.
It was just past five o'clock and the sky had changed. Peach coloured stripes crossed the lavender sky. As the sun was going down, it left the evergreens and naked deciduous trees in silhouette. I had always been looking for breath-taking beauty (in nature, I assumed) and this was the most beautiful thing I had seen.
Alas, the sun set and the sky faded to a deep blue.
Showing posts with label Word of the Day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Word of the Day. Show all posts
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Today's Word
impassive \im-PASS-iv\, adjective:
1. Devoid of or unsusceptible to emotion.
2. Showing no sign of emotion or feeling; expressionless.
His eyes were blank, and I could sense that it was the funeral that had left him impassive. I called out to him, "Adam," but he was still.
"Adam," I repeated. "You have to eat something. You'll make yourself sick if you don't."
I hated pressing it on him; it seemed too insignificant a thing to do after his sister's death.
"I'm not hungry now. Maybe later," he said barely breaking a whisper. I nodded and left the room. I was unable to look at him. He had changed.
I suddenly felt guilty as I sat on the wooden chair in our bedroom. True, he wasn't the man I had fallen in love with, he hadn't been for some time, but he needed time to pass through this rough patch. He would smile again, I knew.
I would love him again when he smiled.
1. Devoid of or unsusceptible to emotion.
2. Showing no sign of emotion or feeling; expressionless.
His eyes were blank, and I could sense that it was the funeral that had left him impassive. I called out to him, "Adam," but he was still.
"Adam," I repeated. "You have to eat something. You'll make yourself sick if you don't."
I hated pressing it on him; it seemed too insignificant a thing to do after his sister's death.
"I'm not hungry now. Maybe later," he said barely breaking a whisper. I nodded and left the room. I was unable to look at him. He had changed.
I suddenly felt guilty as I sat on the wooden chair in our bedroom. True, he wasn't the man I had fallen in love with, he hadn't been for some time, but he needed time to pass through this rough patch. He would smile again, I knew.
I would love him again when he smiled.
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