Tag: Dust

cassianandorjyn:

@dasakuryo requested Bodhi + Dust floating in golden sunlight

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Behind his eyelids eternity dances, sparkling.

His curtains still swaying after his mother yanks them to the side, letting Jedha’s early morning engulf his room in golden flames.

The ray of golden afternoon light teasing him as glare on his datapad’s screen. He scratches away at his homework, the tape holding his stylus together rubbing against his middle finger.

His sister leaving him to do all the housework, his mind wandering as he sweeps up the dust that settles on every free surface. It’s the construction, they all say, but his mother believes he’s just being lazy.

In the pilot’s seat, the setting star renders the scratches and dents of his viewport in painful clarity. Riddled with imperfections, but the speeder is good enough to win. Flying over sand dunes, the shoddy appearance doesn’t matter, only the love he pours into its parts.

Red and gold and yellow and orange and a thousand different shades of brown all brought alive by starlight. On Jedha even a measly fleck of dust looks ethereal. Glitter. Like stardust. 

Here the Force lives, thrives, sings, touching every thing.

The Empire is black, white, grey. Pristine, no room for golden air. Just ventilation that leaves a metallic taste in Bodhi’s mouth. Like blood.

He hurtles through the vaccum of space. Fumes and grease that he scrubs and sweeps but never leaves. Chilly but not like home. No light, just warnings that blink on and off. Unnatural, erratic, like his breathing.

Then, Jedha again, so changed with a coating of something that settles everywhere. He’s lazy. It’s his fault. His fault. In the cell, catching in his eyelashes. Then sparks, real ones, not motes caught by the sun.

Jedha again, only for it to be swallowed by light. Caving in, dust becomes dirt becomes sand becomes soil becomes the whole entire moon.

Bodhi opens his eyes, and Jedha is gone.

Stardust. Bloodied, burnt, stardust.

He can’t shake the image out of his head. He can close his eyes and pretend he’s still warm in bed, sunlight orange against the back of his eyelids. Mother pulling the curtains back. Dust motes trapped by sunlight. Stardust made from flecks of stars, lit by stars. 

It’s all gone. Now, nothing. Become nothing. Is nothing once again.

The Force touches everything on Jedha, has touched him, bound him into it. So he follows its call, soon after, and is stardust.

Bright, glittering, caught in the Force like his cocoon of blankets.

It’s all gone, yet here once again. Tiny, insignificant Bodhi, set aflame, grows, becomes, a star.