the Night Watch

the Night Watch
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
the polish rider
That smile, again, like a knife. Luke held silent, struggling to regain hiscomposure. The Emperor tapped his fingers on the arm of the throne, recalling. "There wasone called…Yoda. An aged Master Jedi…Ah, I see by your countenance I have hit achord, a resonant chord indeed. Yoda, then." Luke flashed with anger at himself, now, to have revealed so much, unwillingly,unwittingly. Anger and self-doubt. He strove to calm himself—to see all, to shownothing; only to be. "This Yoda," the Emperor mused. "Lives he still?" Luke focused on the emptiness of space beyond the window behind theEmperor's chair. The deep void, where nothing was. Nothing. He filled his mindwith this black nothing. Opaque, save for the occasional flickering of starlight thatfiltered through the ether.