My Sweet Rose painting

My Sweet Rose painting
Naiade oil painting
Nighthawks Hopper
Nude on the Beach
beckoning seductively to small abrasive particles with an oily gleam. He wipedsweat from his forehead and leaned back for a moment. The most prepossessingthing about the young man was his name. A light breeze tugged at his shaggy hairand baggy work tunic as he regarded the device. No point in staying angry at it, hecounseled himself. It's only an unintelligent machine. As Luke considered his predicament, a third figure appeared, scooting out frombehind the vaporator to fumble awkwardly at the damaged section. Only three of theTreadwell model robot's six arms were functioning, and these had seen more wearthan the boots on Luke's feet. The machine moved with unsteady stop-and-startmotions. Luke gazed at it sadly, then inclined his head to study the sky. Still no sign of acloud, and he knew there never would be unless he got that vaporator working. Hewas about to try once again when a small, intense gleam of light caught his eye.Quickly he slipped the carefully cleaned set of macrobinoculars from his utility beltand focused the lenses skyward. For long moments he stared, wishing all the while that he had a real telescopeinstead of the binocs. As he stared, vaporators, the heat, and the day's remainingchores were forgotten. Clipping the binoculars back onto his belt, Luke turned anddashed for the landspeeder. Halfway to the vehicle he thought to call behind him. "Hurry up," he shouted impatiently. "What are you waiting for? Get it in