Boots On The Ground Synonym Novels & Stories

Heaven didn’t bleed; it cracked like fine china under the weight of my obsidian boots. I walked through the Bone-Coral grove, the heels of my right boot clicking against the silver soil while my left stone leg dragged with a heavy, rhythmic thud. The sound was a desecration. In this world of perfect loops and rendered peace, I was a walking glitch. I was the dirt beneath their fingernails, the ash in their sterile lungs. Ga-chi. Ga-chi.

the man with the gun said. I stood, felt the guidance of hands on my arms directing me toward what I assumed was the door, and navigated the step down to the ground with the careful attention of someone who could not see where they were putting their feet and was not going to give anyone the satisfaction of falling. My feet met ground that confirmed what I had heard through the wheels. An uneven surface, broken asphalt or compacted gravel, the specific texture of a place that had not been maintained with any intention of presenting well.

The magic sizzled against his skin. The second golem loomed over me. It raised a massive boot to stomp on my chest. I rolled away. The boot cracked the floor. I scrambled to my feet. I was fast but I couldn't hurt them. They were meat shields. "Victor!" I shouted. "The floor! Use the floor!" Victor looked down. He looked at the polished concrete beneath the expensive carpet. He stopped fighting the bonds. He focused. He slammed his fists onto the ground.

That slow, heavy burn we had carried for twelve long months was the only anchor keeping me grounded on the side of a skyscraper. "Watch the concrete," I growled, my heavy boots sliding slightly on the wet, slick stone as I took the lead. "The rain is freezing against the surface. If you lose your footing, you shift immediately. Do you hear me?" She gave a single, sharp nod, her teeth clenching as she stepped into my exact footprints.

Dorian's boots scraped along the pearlescent surface at best, the ground looking infinitely smooth. He was walking on solid moonlight, as much as anything was. Some weightless ground that offered not even the slightest foot hold to him. He had never been too afraid to attempt a trial before, but this time was different.

Marinah, meet your new idea of fun. The ground comes fast, and we're within reach of the cleared land. King hits first, making it look easy. I have only seconds before my feet are running and connect with the earth. My Doc Martens make perfect contact, and they are now my official parachuting boots. The soles grip the dirt, and I'm able to land much like King and stay upright. I look at my mate after coming to a stop and can't hide my grin. "That was amazing." I laugh. His smile is wider than mine, but he's all business. "Collect your chute," he says as he gathers his.

"You your feet, you..." Just now, the green grass under their feet had all withered unconsciously, revealing the black and red ground under the grass.

His heavy combat boots thumping on the hardwood floors in a way that could have driven a whole through it if there wasn't a cement base underneath. "But there's going to be a storm out," I yelled, getting of my bed and sliding on the waxed hardwood floor with my newest pair of batman socks to the threshold of my doorway. "Exactly!" He remarked and I could hear the excitement in his deep voice.

It isn’t fair that we’re designed to depend on the most volatile, undependable animal in creation. I kick the dry garden soil with the heel of my leather-soled lace-up ankle boots. They even dress us to be weak. I couldn’t hurt a fly with the soft sole of my shoe. I lower myself to my back, every bone and bruise complaining, and stare up at the blue sky. It’s high today, a faraway vault. Some Ditches who build, like Clay, have steel-toed boots. I could figure that out. Hunt up some metal scraps from the junk heap behind the supply shed and sew them into the fabric. With my luck, I’d stub my toe and break it, though.

He was swaying from side to side, and when he looked down, he didn't want to trust his eyes. A dark, thick fluid covered the ground all around him and the wheat seemed to be devoured by it rapidly. His feet were covered, too, though he didn't feel anything strange. He shrugged it off, thought it was because of his boots. He raised his feet to take another step.