Crevice

A crevice is a narrow crack or opening, typically in a rock or wall. It can also refer to any narrow, sheltered opening or gap. Crevices are often found in natural landscapes, serving as habitats for small animals or plants. They can also be man-made, such as in buildings or structures. Here are 10 sample sentences using the word crevice:

1. The hikers found a small crevice in the cliff where they could shelter from the rain.
2. A lizard darted into a crevice in the rock, disappearing from sight.
3. She carefully inserted the blade into the crevice to pry open the door.
4. The old house was full of crevices where drafts of cold air seeped in.
5. The treasure was hidden in a deep crevice in the cave wall.
6. He slipped and his foot got stuck in a crevice between the rocks.
7. The cat squeezed through a narrow crevice in the fence to escape the yard.
8. The flashlight revealed a network of crevices in the ancient ruins.
9. A small plant had taken root in a tiny crevice in the pavement.
10. The glacier had deep crevices that made crossing treacherous.

Synonyms:

• Crack
• Fissure
• Gap
• Cleft
• Rift
• Chink
• Split
• Hole
• Hollow
• Aperture

The Clockwork Heart: A Tale of Time Unraveled

The city of Cogtown hummed with the synchronized rhythm of a thousand ticking gears. Each cobblestone street, each lamppost, even the trees lining the avenues were intricate clockwork creations, pulsing with life. In this world of metal and steam, Amelia, a young tinker with grease-stained overalls and a head full of curiosity, stumbled upon a strange discovery.

While scavenging spare parts in the Underworks, the labyrinthine network beneath Cogtown, Amelia found a peculiar device. It resembled a heart, crafted from brass and adorned with gleaming clock faces. But where a normal heart would beat, this one remained motionless, silent. Driven by an inexplicable urge, Amelia took it home, determined to unravel its secrets.

Late that night, in the dim glow of her workshop, Amelia tinkered with the artifact. A tiny fissure appeared on its surface, pulsating with an ethereal light. As she peered closer, the room rippled and split, revealing a swirling vortex of gears and cogs. Curiosity overcoming fear, Amelia stepped through the aperture, the device clutched in her hand.

She found herself in a strange, distorted version of Cogtown. Time seemed unraveled, buildings skewed at impossible angles, and clocks spun backwards. She soon encountered other “Chronostrays,” lost souls trapped in this temporal anomaly, their bodies fading like wisps of steam. They spoke of a powerful entity, the Chronophage, a being devouring time itself, fueled by the artifact Amelia held.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, Amelia teamed up with a jaded Chronostray named Cyrus. Using his knowledge of forgotten clockwork techniques and her own ingenuity, they devised a plan. They would confront the Chronophage, overloading its system with temporal energy drawn from the chinks in time itself.

Their journey was fraught with danger. They chased temporal storms, navigated through cracks in reality, and even faced distorted clockwork creatures birthed from the Chronophage’s chaos. Finally, they arrived at the heart of the anomaly, a swirling vortex of gears and darkness.

The Chronophage materialized, a monstrous being of twisted metal and stolen time. The battle was fierce, gears clashing, sparks flying. Just as they were about to be overwhelmed, Amelia, remembering Cyrus’s words, shattered the clockwork heart. A hollow echo resonated as the device dissolved, releasing a burst of pure temporal energy.

The Chronophage screamed, its form splitting apart as the stolen time flowed back into its rightful place. Reality stabilized, the distorted Cogtown receding. Amelia and Cyrus found themselves back in her workshop, the strange device now merely a pile of cogs.

News of their daring feat spread like wildfire. Amelia became a hero, not for the glory, but for reminding everyone of the importance of appreciating the present, before time itself ran out. Cogtown hummed anew, gears turning in perfect harmony, a testament to the day a young tinker and a Chronostray saved time itself, reminding everyone that the most valuable treasures are not made of brass and gears, but the precious, finite moments we call life.

The Clockwork Heart: A Tale of Steam and Secrets

The air in Professor Finch’s workshop crackled with anticipation. Gears whirred, pistons hissed, and steam billowed from beneath a towering contraption of bronze and brass. In its heart, nestled amidst intricate clockwork, lay a marvel of his creation – a beating, mechanical heart.

Tonight, life would be breathed into his masterpiece. He had toiled for years, driven by a grief that gnawed at his soul. His daughter, Amelia, had been lost in a tragic accident, leaving a gaping hole in his life. This artificial heart, powered by steam and fueled by his love, was his desperate attempt to bring her back.

With trembling hands, Finch ignited the boiler. The room filled with the chugging of the engine, and the heart began to pulsate, its rhythm echoing Amelia’s laughter in his memory. A tear rolled down his cheek, landing on the metal, leaving a faint, glistening chink.

Suddenly, a crack split the air. The heart sputtered, its rhythm erratic. Panic surged through Finch as he realized the fissure in his design. The steam pressure was too high, threatening to tear the delicate mechanism apart.

He scrambled to adjust the valves, but it was too late. The heart exploded, showering the workshop with shrapnel and steam. Finch collapsed, blinded by the blast, his ears ringing. When the dust settled, he found himself staring at a horrific sight.

The aperture where the heart had been now housed a swirling vortex of energy, a rift between worlds. Through it, he saw a glimpse of Amelia, her face etched with worry. But she wasn’t alone. Tendrils of darkness reached for her, threatening to pull her into the abyss.

Grief turned to rage within Finch. He wouldn’t let her be lost again. He grabbed his tools, his anger fueling his resolve. He would split the rift, seal the gap, and bring Amelia back, no matter the cost.

Thus began a desperate race against time. Finch, fueled by his love and fueled by steam, battled the darkness threatening to consume his daughter. He built contraptions, forged alliances with eccentric inventors, and delved into forgotten texts, all in pursuit of a solution.

His journey took him through clockwork cities hidden beneath the earth, across deserts patrolled by clockwork automatons, and into the heart of a volcano powered by a beating, fiery heart. Each challenge tested him, splitting his resolve, but the thought of Amelia kept him going.

Finally, after countless sacrifices and near-death experiences, Finch devised a plan. He would use the power of the clockwork heart to bridge the rift, creating a temporary passage to Amelia. But he knew returning would be impossible. The rift would seal shut, leaving him on the other side.

With a heavy heart, he activated the device. The workshop filled with a blinding light, and the rift widened. Amelia appeared, her eyes wide with disbelief. Tears streamed down her face as she realized the sacrifice he was making.

In their final moments, they embraced, the warmth of their love momentarily pushing back the darkness. Then, with a final, wrenching split, the rift closed, severing the connection. Amelia was safe, but Finch was gone, his sacrifice echoing in the silence of the workshop.

The story of Professor Finch became a legend, a cautionary tale of love and loss, reminding everyone that even the most ingenious creations can have unforeseen consequences. The chink in the heart, a symbol of his flawed design, became a reminder that sometimes, the greatest love stories are incomplete, leaving behind a hollow ache, but also a testament to the extraordinary lengths one will go to for those they love.

The Clockmaker’s Curse: A Tale of Time Unraveling

Elias Thorne, a renowned clockmaker, prided himself on his creations, each a symphony of gears and chimes, a testament to the precise control of time. But his obsession with perfection led him down a dark path, fueled by a whisper of an ancient rift in time itself.

Legends spoke of a hidden aperture, guarded by a cryptic clock tower, where one could manipulate the very fabric of time. Driven by a thirst to undo a past regret, Elias embarked on a perilous journey, seeking the fabled tower.

His arduous trek led him through treacherous fissures in glaciers, across scorching deserts where the sun cast menacing gaps in the sand, and finally, to a desolate island shrouded in perpetual twilight. There, nestled amidst jagged cliffs, stood the clock tower, its face a chilling blank slate, its chimes forever silent.

Elias deciphered cryptic symbols carved into the tower, each revealing a key to unlock the rift. He spent months meticulously crafting intricate mechanisms, driven by a manic fervor. Finally, with a trembling hand, he activated the final gear.

The tower shuddered, a crack splitting the sky, revealing a swirling vortex of time. Elias, consumed by his desire, plunged into the chasm. He found himself in a chaotic realm of fractured moments, past and future bleeding into each other, a horrifying tableau of his own regrets and missed opportunities.

Panic seized him as he realized the true curse of the rift. Time, once his tool, now mocked him, each passing second splintering his sanity. He desperately sought a way back, but the mechanisms he had built were malfunctioning, spewing gears and smoke, a reflection of his own unraveling mind.

In a moment of clarity, Elias realized his obsession had blinded him. He couldn’t rewrite the past, but he could learn from it. With a newfound resolve, he used his remaining skills to stabilize the mechanisms, reversing the flow of time.

He emerged from the rift, battered and broken, but with a newfound appreciation for the present. The clock tower lay in ruins, a stark reminder of his folly. Elias returned to his workshop, his once immaculate creations now gathering dust. He focused on crafting simple clocks, each tick a reminder of the preciousness of time, not to be controlled, but cherished. His name, once whispered with awe, became a cautionary tale, a reminder of the dangers of chasing shadows in the hollow halls of the past.

• Crack: retak
• Fissure: retakan
• Gap: celah, kekosongan
• Cleft: belahan
• Rift: retak, belahan
• Chink: celah
• Split: retak, belahan
• Hole: lubang, bolong
• Hollow: rongga
• Aperture: lubang, celah

Antonyms:

• Solidity
• Closure
• Wholeness
• Solid
• Closure
• Fullness
• Closure
• Sealed
• Closed
• Dense

The Archivist’s Dilemma: A Journey Beyond Closure

Agatha Thorne, the Archivist of Whispers, navigated the labyrinthine library, her footsteps echoing on the worn stone floor. Towering shelves housed countless stories, sealed within ancient tomes. Agatha, however, sought not mere narratives, but wholeness. She searched for fragments of souls, lost in unfinished stories, yearning for closure.

One day, a new tome arrived, radiating an unnatural density. Intricate symbols adorned its cover, beckoning her. Inside, she found a single sheet, etched with a plea for help. A young poet, trapped in a story with no ending, yearned to be sealed beyond the pages.

Driven by empathy, Agatha embarked on a perilous journey into the narrative. The world shimmered and shifted, morphing into the poet’s unfinished tale. A war-torn kingdom, shrouded in despair, echoed the poet’s unresolved grief. Every step she took felt heavy, as if the solidity of the story weighed upon her.

She encountered the characters, mere figments of the poet’s imagination, but real in their pain. A king burdened by guilt, a soldier clinging to hope, a lover lost in the battlefield’s chaos. Agatha realized closure wasn’t just for the poet, but for them all.

She guided them through trials, helped them confront their demons, and unearthed the root of the conflict: the poet’s unresolved feelings of betrayal. As they worked towards understanding and forgiveness, the story began to change. Colors returned to the war-torn landscape, hope kindled in the characters’ eyes.

Finally, Agatha facilitated a reconciliation, a release of pent-up emotions. The characters found peace, their stories reaching a resolution. As the final words were spoken, the world shimmered once more, and Agatha found herself back in the library.

The tome no longer pulsed with distress. It felt light, sealed, complete. A faint smile touched Agatha’s lips. This wasn’t just closure for the poet and his characters, it was a revelation for her. Stories weren’t just vessels, they were connections, and wholeness could be found not just in endings, but in the journey together.

From that day on, Agatha carried within her the weight of countless stories, each a reminder that true closure wasn’t a solitary act, but a tapestry woven with empathy, understanding, and the shared thread of humanity.

The Unraveling: A Journey Beyond the Walls

Amara, a weaver of dreams, lived within the solidity of the Bastion, a colossal city built upon an impenetrable mountain peak. Life within the Bastion was predictable, sealed off from the harsh realities of the outside world. Its citizens, like meticulously woven tapestries, existed in a state of wholeness, their emotions dense and muted, their dreams carefully controlled.

Amara, however, was different. Her dreams, unlike the others, shimmered with vibrant colors and emotions, glimpses of a world beyond the Bastion’s walls. Haunted by a yearning for closure, she dreamt of a forgotten sky, vibrant landscapes, and a life filled with unfamiliar fullness.

One day, a strange anomaly appeared in the Bastion’s energy shield, a chink in their perceived reality. Drawn by an unseen force, Amara ventured through the gap, entering a world beyond the Bastion’s control.

The outside world was a chaotic tapestry of beauty and danger. The sky, once a whispered legend, stretched vast and open. Lush forests pulsed with life, and the air vibrated with raw emotions. Yet, it was also a place of struggle, where survival hung by a thread.

As Amara journeyed, she encountered others who, like her, felt trapped within the Bastion’s closed reality. They spoke of a time before the walls, a time of vibrant connections and the unbridled expression of emotions. They shared their stories, their pain, and their hope for a future beyond the Bastion’s solidity.

Amara began to understand the true cost of the Bastion’s closure. The wholeness it promised was an illusion, a suppression of the very essence of life. She saw the beauty and strength that blossomed when emotions were allowed to flow freely, even when they brought pain.

Fueled by newfound purpose, Amara returned to the Bastion, her eyes filled with the light of the outside world. She shared her experiences, her dreams, and the stories of those she met. Her words sparked a fire, a yearning for something more in the hearts of the Bastion’s citizens.

The Bastion, once a symbol of solidity, began to unravel. Walls crumbled, emotions bloomed, and dreams took flight. The journey towards wholeness wasn’t about sealing oneself off, but about embracing the fullness of life, with all its complexities and contradictions.

The Bastion, forever changed, became a bridge between two worlds, a testament to the power of dreams, the courage to face the unknown, and the understanding that true closure lies not in shutting out life, but in embracing it fully.

The Whispering Walls: A Tale of Walls Within

Evelyn stood before the solid oak door, its intricate carvings a stark contrast to the turmoil within her. For months, she had grappled with the loss of her beloved grandmother, the echo of her laughter haunting the empty halls of their ancestral home. The house, once a haven of warmth, now felt oppressive, its silence a constant reminder of the gap left in her life.

Driven by a desperate need for closure, Evelyn ventured into the attic, a place untouched since her grandmother’s passing. The air hung thick with dust, sunlight filtering through chinks in the boarded windows, illuminating forgotten treasures. A worn journal, its pages filled with cryptic symbols, caught her eye.

As she deciphered the faded ink, a chilling truth unfolded. The house, built upon an ancient ley line, was more than just bricks and mortar. Its walls, imbued with the emotions of generations, held whispers of the past, echoing unresolved conflicts. The hollow ache Evelyn felt wasn’t just grief; it was the collective pain resonating from the very foundation of the house.

Determined to break free from the burden, Evelyn embarked on a journey to understand the whispers. She delved into family history, unearthing forgotten stories of betrayal, unrequited love, and unresolved feuds. Each discovery unlocked a new chink in the emotional wall, allowing fragments of the past to filter through.

The process was agonizing. Each revelation felt like a fresh wound, but with it came a flicker of wholeness. She saw her grandmother not just as a loving figure, but as a woman shaped by her own struggles. The house, once a symbol of loss, transformed into a tapestry of shared experiences, both joyous and sorrowful.

Finally, standing in the attic, Evelyn understood the true meaning of closure. It wasn’t about erasing the past, but about integrating it, acknowledging the pain and finding strength in the shared memories. With newfound resolve, she began to mend the emotional rifts, performing symbolic acts of forgiveness and reconciliation, not just for her ancestors, but for herself.

As she finished, a tangible shift occurred. The house seemed to sigh, the air losing its oppressive weight. Sunlight streamed through the dense attic, bathing the room in a warm glow. The whispers had ceased, replaced by a profound sense of solidity and peace. Evelyn knew she would carry the weight of the past, but now it felt like a part of her, not a burden. The house, once a prison of grief, had become a testament to the power of healing, its walls no longer barriers, but bridges to a more complete and integrated self.

• Solidity: kepadatan
• Closure: penutupan
• Wholeness: keutuhan
• Solid: padat
• Closure: penutupan
• Fullness: kelengkapan
• Closure: penutupan
• Sealed: tersegel
• Closed: tertutup
• Dense: padat

Words derived from crevice:

• Creviced: berlecak
• Creviceless: tanpa lecak

Related words:

• Crack
• Fissure
• Gap
• Cleft
• Rift
• Chink
• Split
• Hole
• Hollow
• Aperture

The Whisper of the World Through Stone

The old lighthouse keeper, Matthias, squinted at the dawning sky, a shiver snaking through his weathered frame. An unnatural silence hung heavy, broken only by the rhythmic crash of waves against the storm-battered pier. Then, a soft chink, barely audible, sent a tremor through the lighthouse. Another, louder. Fear prickled Matthias’ skin. The ancient structure, whispering secrets beneath its coat of peeling paint, hadn’t spoken in years.

He found the source in the heart of the tower, near the grand aperture that once cast its guiding beam. A crack, impossibly thin, snaked down the stone, a fissure oozing an ethereal, silver chink of light. Curiosity, laced with apprehension, spurred Matthias closer. As he peered through the gap, the stone thrummed with an alien energy, the cleft widening ever so slightly.

A voice, a whisper so ancient it felt carved into the very foundation of the world, tickled his mind. Images flooded his vision: swirling galaxies, the birth of stars, the fall of civilizations. The rift in the stone was a doorway, revealing not just the sea, but the raw tapestry of existence.

Terror battled awe within Matthias. The whisper promised knowledge, power, answers to questions humanity had pondered since the dawn of time. But it also spoke of a delicate balance, easily shattered by mortal hands. The hole at the heart of the world, once glimpsed, could never be forgotten.

Days bled into nights as Matthias grappled with the revelation. The lighthouse stood abandoned, the beam extinguished. The whisper persisted, its seductive promises countered by warnings of cataclysmic consequences. Finally, Matthias made his choice.

With trembling hands, he sealed the cleft, the ethereal light dimming until it vanished. The whisper faded, leaving only the echo of its power. The old lighthouse keeper emerged, his eyes changed, carrying the weight of the world’s secrets in his silent heart. He would never speak of what he saw, but the hollow within him now held a wisdom deeper than any ocean. The storm returned, waves crashing against the pier, but the lighthouse stood firm, a silent guardian of the crack that whispered the secrets of the universe, forever hidden within its aged stones.

The Curse of the Sunken City: A Tale of Hidden Depths

The salty wind whipped Captain Elara’s hair into a frenzy as her weathered ship, the Cormorant, creaked and groaned. A storm brewed on the horizon, mirroring the churning turmoil in her own heart. For weeks, they had sailed these uncharted waters, guided only by whispers of an ancient city swallowed by the sea. Legend spoke of sunken treasures, guarded by a fearsome kraken, but Elara sought something far more precious – answers.

Her father, a renowned explorer, had vanished five years ago, consumed by the very same legend. Now, armed with his cryptic notes and a tattered map, she was determined to unravel the mystery. As the sun dipped below the waves, casting an eerie glow on the ocean, a cry went up from the lookout. A dark, jagged rift had opened in the water, its edges crackling with an unnatural energy.

Hesitantly, Elara steered the Cormorant closer. The air crackled with anticipation, and a thick fog rolled in, obscuring everything but the ominous gap in the sea. Suddenly, the ship shuddered violently, sucked into the abyss. Elara clung to the mast as they plunged into darkness, the roar of the ocean filling her ears.

When the deafening silence returned, Elara found herself in an underwater world bathed in an ethereal light. Towering coral formations pierced the water like skeletal fingers, and amidst them, a magnificent city shimmered, seemingly untouched by time. The hollow eyes of colossal statues stared down at her, their expressions frozen in silent screams.

As she ventured deeper, drawn by an unseen force, she discovered a central plaza dominated by a colossal, sunken temple. Its grand aperture pulsed with a faint, blue light. Ignoring the rising fear in her chest, Elara entered.

Inside, she found her father, his face etched with despair. He spoke of a powerful artifact, the Heart of the Ocean, hidden within the temple. It held the key to controlling the kraken, but its power was also its curse, splitting those who wielded it. He had succumbed to its lure, forever trapped between worlds.

Tears streamed down Elara’s face as she realized the truth. The city wasn’t cursed; it was a prison, built to contain the artifact’s power. With newfound resolve, she destroyed the Heart, shattering its hollow promise of power. The temple trembled, and a blinding light erupted, pushing Elara back out into the open water.

The rift above began to close, the city sinking back into the depths. Elara watched, her heart heavy but her spirit lighter. She had faced the darkness and emerged, not with treasure, but with a newfound understanding of her father’s sacrifice and the true cost of ambition. As the Cormorant resurfaced, the storm clouds parted, revealing a clear, starlit sky. The journey home would be long, but Elara knew she carried a story worth telling, a cautionary tale whispered on the wind, a testament to the unseen depths of human desire.

• Crack: retak
• Fissure: retakan
• Gap: celah, kekosongan
• Cleft: belahan
• Rift: retak, belahan
• Chink: celah
• Split: retak, belahan
• Hole: lubang, bolong
• Hollow: rongga
• Aperture: lubang, celah

Phrasal verbs:

• Crevice out: to split or crack open, membelah atau meretakkan
• Crevice into: to enter or fit into a narrow opening, masuk atau cocok ke dalam sebuah celah
• Crevice through: to pass or navigate through a narrow opening, melewati atau menavigasi melalui sebuah celah
• Crevice up: to fill or seal a crevice, mengisi atau menutupi sebuah celah
• Crevice down: to descend or move downward into a crevice, menuruni atau bergerak ke bawah ke dalam sebuah celah
• Crevice open: to forcibly widen a narrow opening or crack, memperlebar paksa sebuah celah atau retakan
• Crevice apart: to separate or split along a crevice, memisahkan atau membelah sepanjang sebuah celah
• Crevice around: to explore or search around narrow openings or cracks, menjelajahi atau mencari sekitar celah-celah atau retakan
• Crevice in: to settle or nestle into a crevice, menetap atau bersarang di dalam sebuah celah
• Crevice out of: to emerge or escape from a crevice, muncul atau melarikan diri dari sebuah celah

Common expressions:

• In the crevice of: di celah
• Wedged in a crevice: terjepit di celah
• Lost in the crevice: hilang di celah
• Hidden within the crevice: tersembunyi di dalam celah
• Peering into the crevice: melihat ke dalam celah
• Filling the crevice: mengisi celah
• Exploring the crevice: menjelajahi celah
• Sealing the crevice: menutup celah
• Crouched in the crevice: membungkuk di dalam celah
• Sheltered in the crevice: berteduh di dalam celah

Related idioms:

• Fall through the crevice: jatuh melalui celah
• Slip through the crevice: tergelincir melalui celah
• Caught in the crevice: terperangkap di celah
• Between a rock and a hard place: di antara dua pilihan sulit
• Out of the crevice: keluar dari celah
• Close the crevice: menutup celah
• Bridge the crevice: menghubungkan celah
• Mind the crevice: berhati-hati dengan celah
• Deep as a crevice: dalam seperti celah
• Wide as a crevice: lebar seperti celah