Dance Me to the End of Love

Dance Me to the End of Love
Evening Mood painting
female nude reclining
flaming june painting
The source of those multiple energy beams suddenly hove into view—alumbering Imperial cruise, its massive outline bristling cactuslike with dozens ofheavy weapons emplacements. Light ceased arching from those spines now as thecruiser moved in close. Intermittent explosions and flashes of light could be seen inthose portion of the smaller ship which had taken hits. In the absolute cold of spacethe cruiser snuggled up alongside its wounded prey. Another distant explosions shook the ship—but it certainly didn't feel distant toArtoo Detoo or See Threepio. The concussion bounced them around the narrowcorridor like bearings in an old motor. To look at these two, one would have supposed that the tall, human-like machine,Threepio was the master and the stubby, tripodal robot, Artoo Detoo, an inferior.But while Threepio might have sniffed disdainfully at the suggestion, they were infact equal in everything save loquacity. Here Threepio was clearly –andnecessarily –the superior. Still another explosion rattled the corridor, throwing Threepio off balance. Hisshorter companion had the better of it during such moments with his squat, cylindricalbody's low center of gravity well balanced on thick, clawed legs.