Refraction Sentence Novels & Stories

It actually looks super cool. "Does it always feel like that?" Rowen settles back into his spot but keeps one hand on my stomach. "Um, it doesn't feel quite the same as it does for you. I guess the best way to describe it is when you have a gas bubble or something running through your intestines. It's like that, except it doesn't hurt at all." He shakes his head, still trying to wrap his brain around this new turn of events. "I just can't believe he's real, ya know?"

The Mechanics of the Steamy-Reflection The tension in the "Reflection-Point" was "Nuclear-Purity." To "Snatch the Prize," the prose had to capture the "Friction" of "Seeing-the-Self-in-the-All." They weren't just "Merging"; they were "Interfering" to "Suture-the-Symmetry."

Xander's father's generation had understood this about the space and had built the Siphon infrastructure to work with it. "If we run power through the quartz veins instead of through the Siphon channels," Silas said, "the quartz doesn't just conduct the frequency. It refracts it." He looked at the wall beside him, at the faint mineral gleam of the quartz seam running through the stone. "The way a prism refracts light — the quartz breaks the input frequency into components and distributes them outward along different vectors." He looked at Sarah. "If the incoming acoustic cannons produce low-frequency waves in the sub-harmonic band—"

"I'll take us back a bit to highschool. Sound waves, in solids. Refraction, diffraction, reflection, these are terms we'll use and you have to put into use when designing those buildings and bridges. Okay, try these equations, first." Rosetta watched serious Domenico with a smile on her face. He looked so cool and... She sighed. Why was she so attracted to him? "Miss Rosetta, I believe you're following?" She jerked when she heard his address to her.

Twelve beams of sterilization light hit our acoustic lens and were scattered into a thousand jagged needles of refraction. ​The sky above the valley turned into a prismatic nightmare. The scattered beams didn't hit the ground; they bounced off the atmosphere, redirected by the sheer density of our resonance field. ​"Elara, look!" Killian pointed upward. ​One of the refracted beams, redirected by a surge in the Preceptor’s glass heart, sliced upward. It didn't hit the lead ship’s hull; it hit its Glassing Array. The feedback was instantaneous. The silver ship didn't explode—it crystallized. The clinical perfection of the surgeon tech was turned into a jagged, frozen sculpture of light, its en

I’d only caught a piece of it. A minute passed. “The opal deposit,” I said. Bastian looked up. “Stone that drinks but doesn’t swallow,” I said. “Opals absorb light. And if the water passed through the deposit on its way up, it would refract the light in the basin—reflect it back in a specific direction.” I looked at his notes. “Does the next line say anything about direction? A time of day?” He stared at me for a moment before he looked down at his paper, read something, and turned back a page in the book.

Too easily. Afnan held her ground this time. Barely. Her hands trembled at her sides. “I’ve seen what you do,” she said, forcing strength into her voice. “You twist things. You distort them.” The reflection stopped. Its expression shifted slightly. Not offended. Not angry. Amused. “I don’t twist anything,” it said softly. “I reveal it.” Afnan’s breath caught. “That’s not true.” “Isn’t it?” The reflection circled her slowly now, its gaze never leaving her.

A slow, rhythmic creak-clack. I shone the light directly onto her face. The veil was thin enough to see through. Her eyes were massive, dark orbs that filled nearly the entire socket. As the LED light struck her, the blackness retreated with a wet, squelching sound that shouldn't have been audible. The pupils shrank until they were nothing but white, dead glass, but I could feel the intelligence behind them. "It’s just a trick of the light," I whispered, my voice sounding like a stranger’s in the hollow attic. "Refraction. Optics. Physics."

“You have to tell me why you asked me on a date in the first place.” “Ahh, that deal.” She hummed in response, her palms caressing his chest in soft circular motions. His thumb traced the side of her face. “Do you know why I call you Mirage?” She shook her head. She had always been curious but never had the right occasion to bring up the question. “Do you know what the word means?” “It’s an illusion. Caused by the refraction of light rays. It makes distant objects appear as water or as a mirror.”

Her infectious laugh made me join along in the laughter. Taking a step back, I gave her the space to do her thing. She closed her eyes, stretched her hands forward and began to mutter strange words. “Brom tuk en tro dem no,” I watched her with eagle eyes. “Thra dec su le kac du em!” A thick fog gathered before us and began to separate slowly, She kept repeating those words until it fully cleared and the familiar city came into view. Persefoni opened her eyes and smiled smugly at herself. “Come on, we need to get in quickly before it closes.”