
WINTER TRAPS MOST parts of New Mexico in ice, cushioning cramped adobe buildings with a fine layer of snow. But not Tatooine. Here the sun beats down relentlessly onto the desert, the air empty && still && riding the sharp contours of early morning loneliness. Anakin stands on the outskirts of Mos Eisely, the town square, his entire six am reality balanced around the cup of steaming coffee in his hands. He wouldn’t have even noticed the other person in his periphery if her mind didn’t feel like a festering bulk of shadows along the edges of his forethoughts. What kind of person feels like that?
❝ Uh, excuse me, Miss? ❞ This is probably a bad idea. ❝ Are you…alright? ❞
dokkstjarnarchive reblogged this from astramessiah
astramessiah reblogged this from dokkstjarnarchive









