a conversation - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing

There upon the shore, as gentle waves pooled around our feet, we told one another of how we’d come to wander those briny sands. In time, as our words flowed, so did the incoming tide bathe our hands. Heart beats, wave beats, sighs that stretched to the blur of sky and sea: stories so often yawn out this way. When there is no hurry, no clock of man, nor fear of brutalist lens, the unspooling comes as naturally as the breeze.

Our conversation is so much more than words. It is the smiles, the gentle shrugs and the light in our eyes. That we are both elevated by each other's presence is obvious and even the silences are comfortable. They are moments to savour the company of the other and feel that sense of peace that comes from feeling loved and protected, within the arms of friendship.

He listens as if my words are golden, perhaps some elixir he's been waiting all his days to hear. From what he says next I can tell he is thinking so deeply, already with a strategy that's several moves ahead of what I am capable of. And in his words are a kindness, a concern that is so quick that, for him, it is natural. This attentiveness is apart of who he is and that is, if I'm honest, the most attractive feature I've seen in a man for quite some time. And as the hours go by it becomes the best conversation I've ever had too, it flows, with listening and intelligent responses. I guess that's what happens when two loving people meet and connect.

When Darius settles before me I smile. "I got new makeup." He peers my way, face resolutely unimpressed.

"Is it a natural look?" He means that he can't see it and so I've wasted time and money - two things he hates. He never sees the before version - as if I'd let him see me unmasked.

"Yeah, I like it that way." I open my eyes wider, keeping the smile. He nods and takes a sip of his coffee, offering no ongoing conversation of his own, so I begin again. "It's Valentines tomorrow, so I've booked a helicopter to take us to a mountain top, there's gonna be a table, great food." I smile, hoping my joke will raise his spirits. Instead he huffs.

"I suppose you expect me to shower you with gifts?"

My heart sinks. No, that isn't what I meant at all. I'd settle for a few extra kisses, a long hug, some scribbled notes of affection. "Maybe we can come back for another coffee tomorrow?"

Darius looks downward briefly and then says, "No, I like to sleep in." I hide the hurt. I knew he hated Valentines. Then I bring up some gossip, something else he hates, but what else is there to do? Drink and stare with nothing to say?

Father: "Talia, let's play a game. I speak, and you finish my sentences. Okay, love?"

Talia: "Sure."

Father: "I am in a dark room..."

Talia: "Everything is black."

Father: "I turn to find the door..."

Talia: "But there is none."

Father: "From the wall comes a sliver of daylight..."

Talia: "And I realize there is a chance of escape."

Father: "I feel the wall and discover..."

Talia: "There is a door, but it is stuck."

Father: "There is a key on the floor."

Talia: "But the door stays stuck."

Father: "Kiss the key, open the door, on the other side is my love."

Talia: "I thought your love would be in the dark room with me."

Father: "It was, you set us both free."

I love talking to Jen, she's more like me than anyone I know, but still she thinks inside similar walls to everyone else. I want at least one other person to jump right out of the idea "box" that is our "faux-culture" and imagine it totally different. I can't run my brain in nihilistic thought patterns, I need freedom to move in any direction in search of real solutions. In the eons of history a couple of hundred years of society is a blip, nothing more, and we don't have much culture left anymore anyway. We have the same powerful brains as the ancient Greeks but we let them rot with junk. Every conversation I ever have revolves around the topics of the day - fear, terrorism, money, petty disagreements - no-one ever focuses on the real puzzles of our age. I want to talk to someone who knows our intellectual walls are artificial, I want to converse with someone who can see the cages of the mind like I can. But I guess that's the point of talking, to get what's in your head out there, to start new lines of thought and hope they ripple out into our collective "pond." I want to have a conversation where I feel invigorated afterwards instead of disturbed by the lack of mental flexibility people have. If the brain is like a computer, then the way our minds work is an operating system built by family and environment. My operating system is very different to everyone else. I want to talk philosophy, I want to explore brand new concepts and new blends of old ones. I want to be optimistic about the human mind and soul, optimistic about the future of the earth. How can I have conversations about hair styles, nail jobs and foreign vacations? How can they be anything compared to the simple beauty of a tree?