no one remembers
no one cares
why do I still
trace these eroding marks
with hands that tremble
under the crushing weight
of eternity
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I'm still here
sliding on waves of ephemerity
drifting like dust
in a fleeting breeze
diving into echoes
that do not last
full poem here:
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the town at the Fort Espa Harvest Fair, but hadn’t accounted for the great physical labor required to make such a small amount of the stuff. 7/7
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removed the crank and lifted up the paddle to display a pink, creamy confection Rey had only seen in shop windows in Hanna City.
The party returned to the table, and over small glass bowls filled with rapidly-melting strawberry ice cream, Taj admitted that he had hoped to surprise 6/x
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then secured a crank mechanism over the top.
“And now we crank!” she proclaimed gleefully.
And did they all crank. Each one took a turn, handing off the job to another when their arm began to ache with the effort. After each had taken three turns with the crank handle, Rose 5/x
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ice down to chunks small enough to meet Rose’s standards, Rey watched transfixed as the cream and strawberries were poured into a smaller metal vessel, then the ice fitted into the space between the vessel and the pail. Rose took a clean slate paddle, lowered it into the vessel, 4/x
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blocks of ice which Taj showed the Captain how to chop roughly into smaller pieces using a blade apparently fashioned for the purpose. Rose, meanwhile, had Rey help clean the strawberries of their leaves and stems, and cut them down into small cubes.
Once the men had crushed the 3/x
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“the cellar and fetch The Ingredients,” Rose directed with a significant look at her husband. Rey watched, mystified, as the two men disappeared, then returned a few moments later with a large, clanking pan, a punnet of strawberries, and a jug of milk.
The pan contained smallish 2/x
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On one hot July evening, after the Huxes, Captain Solo, and Rey had finished their customary Sunday dinner, Rose insisted that all follow her into their kitchen. There on the counter sat a nondescript wooden pail.
“Armie. Captain. If you would go down to “ 1/x
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aloud with a soft smile. “And good company.” 7/7
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gaze moved over Ben’s frame, practically from floor to ceiling. “And aren’t you a tall one,” she murmured to herself as she selected rolls of cloth.
Ben’s hand flexed. Rey’s eyes flashed a warning even as her mouth and voice lightened. -My way first.-
“A capable pilot,” Rey said 6/x
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straightened up, then stilled. “Lady Rey,” she said quickly, dipping her head, gray lekku bobbing. “You are well known among the spacelanes.”
“Just Rey, please,” Rey replied, holding up a hand. “Really, just a pair of weary travelers with even more weary clothing.”
The sewist’s 5/x
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cargo to its owners and the ship’s account credited accordingly, Rey and Ben backtracked through the corridors to the little shop, where they found a Twi’lek woman dressed in satins bustling over bolts of stiff canvas and mottled brown hides. At the travelers’ entrance, the sewist 4/x
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and aboveboard as befit a galactic hero and her new partner, thank you very much.
Once the credits were spent in her mind, she found a holosign depicting a pair of scissors and thread in one of the thousands of transparisteel windows in Lianna Spaceport. Once they handed off their 3/x
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can be had without owing a gnarled-handed elder two whole days’ worth of scavenge as payment.
It takes her several weeks to decide to spend a modest amount from the lockbox stored in the crew cabin of the Ghtroc 580 she and Ben purchased to transport cargo and passengers - all tidy 2/x
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It is late one night in the women’s barracks on Ajan Kloss that Rey learns that not everyone’s attire is sewn from emergency provisions and portion sacks. That in so many places in the Galaxy, clothing for comfort and ease - or simply for how it looks - 1/x
smoke drifts far
the silence stays –
petals spin
over embers
spring returns
where soldiers knelt –
whispers of the past
remain
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in spherical stillness
feet weave ancient paths
eight steps swirling
a dance of shifting tides
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people are dreams
scattered fragments—
shards of random shapes
adrift in fading memories
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She sprinkled the crushed thyme over the fillet and added a knob of butter, before settling the lid of the cast iron baking dish with a dull THUNK. /4 #BlueWrites #TBTIECfic
everything she could ever need—until a dark-haired Army captain walked into her brother’s post office one morning and turned her world upside down. 4/4 #BlueWrites #TBTIECfic #ReyloMicrofic
He could not risk his old demons coming back to haunt him and having a deleterious effect on the health and well-being of Missus Hux and their child.
He needed to find his own lodgings or a physically demanding livelihood that would keep the night terrors at bay. Or both. /2
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