Smoke Gets In Your Eyes Book Novels & Stories

I opened up my eyes to find that the room I was in was now completely filled with smoke. I had my face bent to the ground, trying not to inhale too much of what was in the air at that moment. “Help!!!” I yelled with all the strength I had left. My eyes felt hot from the smoke that filled the air. I couldn't see much of what was happening around me, and sadly I was slowly blacking out. My vision became blurred at a point, and all I could hear werewolves' howls and screams from afar. I couldn't stand holding in my breath much longer, as I exhaled gasping for air.

This wasn't the first time I've been slapped but the pains were always fresh because I was never ready for one. Looking up in anger, I stared into his dark brown eyes and he wickedly puffed smoke into my face. I shut my eyes immediately but the chemicals already found their way into my nostrils and eyes. I clenched my feeble fists on the tiled floor as I fought the pain. My eyes were watering and the smoke itched my eye balls. The amount of smoke that barged into my nose made me cough repeatedly. I might choke at this rate. Not good. Choking to death with blindness and no heart doesn't sound good. Not at all....

My eyes are burning, nostrils singe as I’m not prepared for the thick gray smoke bursting outward. “Pyke!” Forrest screams my name as I close the door behind me. I can’t see anything other than the thick gray smoke and rippling of orange flames, devouring the VIP lounges like a starving dragon. If this club is not my second home, I won’t be able to move with my eyes shut closed as they sting like hell. The choking cloud of noxious smoke enters my lungs in a scorching pain, making me cough furiously. I run blindly towards the back of the bar where the blazing flames are a little bit far from me, but still, the heat is oppressive and it feels like it can roast me in seconds.

MARE - PRESENT MY EYES ARE BURNING from staring at a computer screen for so long. I’m so close to the end, to finishing this book that I can’t stop. My fingers ache and I can’t remember the last time that I ate, but none of it matters because the words won’t stop flowing.

Obsession looks like love if you don’t read it closely; I had learned to read it. “Don’t give him your eyes,” Sammi warned. “I give him nothing,” I said, and turned away first. The flame guttered, then swallowed the last of Finch’s careful hand. Smoke climbed and then was flicked away by a wind that smelled like sea and a little like forgiveness if you were naïve enough to think it owed you any.

I rub my eyes to try and clear them but it makes no difference, if anything the fog seems to get worse while my throat starts to burn. A muffled noise outside my door brings my attention away from the fog. I think it's Tom's voice but I can't be sure. I sit up in bed and take a moment to look around the room and that's when reality hits me square in the chest. It isn't the fog that's stinging my eyes, it's smoke. Holly fuck my bedroom is full of smoke!

The palms of her hands were scorched with black and a small trickle of blood escaped her nose. Junto extended his own hands, shooting ice blocks at the roaring flames. The smoke thickened as the fire tried to resist the frozen water, leaving a thick sheet of gray that quickly blocked Junto from my view. I squeezed my eyes tight, trying to keep the ash out. The smoke rose up scratching at my lungs. I coughed, trying to rid the heavy oil from my body, but only inhaled more to replace it. I brought my elbow up to my face, placing it over my mouth and nose in an ineffective way to filter out the smoke. The fabric seemed to be helping the most, though.

A child flung the door of his hut open. Rubs his eyes, still feeling dizzy. Collects firewood from a fireplace at the corner of the hut. Blows the air to make the amber part of the firewood produce a flame. He becomes consistent for a moment but it does not light up. Ashes are lubricated on his face as he tried to blub his eyes with his hand due effect of the smoke that profusely filled the hut making his eyes watery. He swings the firewood severally until a spark of flame contours over the firewood. He smiled.

The smoke made me unable to open my eyes, and the sharp pain caused streams of tears to fall. “F*ck! It’s a gas bomb!” I couldn’t help but curse. I instinctively started rubbing my eyes as panic overtook me. ‘The people outside must have launched a surprise attack!’ I quickly sat up, but Dicken immediately pounced onto me, preventing me from getting up. Just when I wanted to start thrashing in anger, his lips pressed against my eyelid, and he started licking the bottom of my eyelid repeatedly with that wet and slippery tongue of his.

The smoke was everywhere now, pressing down from above, and my vision was doing that thing — the blurring at the edges, the doubling, the specific visual deterioration that came when smoke had been in a system long enough to start making decisions about what it could sustain. Get up, I told myself. Get up. You have her. You just need to get up and get to the door. I tried. My legs had a different opinion. I was on the floor with Rosa beside me and the smoke pressing down and the fire at the walls getting louder — fire had a sound when it was large enough, a specific crackling consuming sound — and I couldn't— Sarah. Her face. That road. That night. Her hand reaching for me across the seats a