Still Life # 142
by Padawan Princess
This is the latest in my Still Life series, a collection of meditations and images of the Boyz at different stages in their lives. Enjoy!
The chamber was quiet. Large as it was, it held no furnishings, only windows, a vast row of them down one wall and looking out into the morning sky. A figure knelt at the chamber's center. No sound of breath betrayed him, nor even the smallest twitch of muscle. He might have been stone, like the walls about him and the floor beneath.
Qui-Gon Jinn leaned against a broad carved pillar and watched his apprentice meditate. It was time to collect Obi-Wan for his next lesson, but he found he could not bring himself to disturb that perfect calm. It spoke well of his Padawan's training and Qui-Gon wondered again at the changes time had wrought. Gone was the thin, gawky boy who had trailed so awkwardly in his wake, and in his place a slender, graceful youth on the verge of becoming a man.
But it was the spirit beneath the skin that held Qui-Gon where he stood, unable to speak or look away; Obi-Wan's soul, flame-bright and clean and full of the living Force. It made what was to come that much harder to contemplate.
At last Obi-Wan moved, a slight fluttering of the straw-colored lashes as his eyes opened. "Master," he said.
"Forgive me, Padawan. I did not mean to disturb you."
"You didn't. How was your meeting with the Council?"
"That doesn't sound very promising."
"It is as it should be."
Obi-Wan yawned and stretched until his joints popped. "You're being cryptic. That must mean we're going someplace unpleasant."
He did not deny it. "Gather your things, we leave within the hour."
This is a particularly irritating type of fan fiction where the author posts a few short paragraphs of prose and tries to pass it off as a complete work. The story fragment consists of no more than a single scene that goes absolutely nowhere. The reader is simply dumped willy-nilly into the middle of the action with no explanation of how the characters got to that point or what happens after. While it is possible to write a piece of fiction that consists of 500 words or less, the above ain't it. It is merely a scene from a longer story that the author hasn't the self-discipline to actually finish.