Creative Writing: Skywalker's Home

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By all means, he probably deserves this in some way or another. Maybe it’s a punishment for all the times he’d gone and overlooked the smaller cases, issues that hadn’t been considered a high priority at the time. It isn’t that he’s greedy—he’s not. Sure, Han has always expected payment for what he does, just like how every other man or woman will, when they stick their neck out for a client and get done what’s needed doing. Already, Han is aware of how little he cares about profit. Doesn’t expect even a dollar from this kid. However, there is this sort of frustration that festers once more, boiling and edging the brim, ready to spill over at random. It isn’t just because of how he’s outdistanced playful intrigue by an inordinate margin…show more content…
He welcomes Skywalker into his home without so much as another word, once arm stretched out into the gloom of his hallway. Dark eyebrows have scaled in surprise, speechless for a good thirty seconds until Han leads him into his spacious kitchen, then beelines straight for the cabinet. A glass of whiskey will do him good. Pouring himself a cup, he docks both hands over granite counters. The stillness of his house is eerie and it adds to his mounting concern. ❝So,❞ Han mumbles into his cup, his voice warbling. ❝Organa, huh? I remember her. Feisty…show more content…
Oh, yeah. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken such a huge gulp. It’s revived some vivid memories. They’re mostly distant blips of her face in his mind, mouth wide open, passion ablaze in her eyes, a crowd of equally stupid rebel protesters lined up behind her—all raising hell over the rise of a new chemical plant. Her cause has been absurd in his eyes. Outrageously so. You can’t stop economic growth. Yeah, so there’s one or two baddies in the corperate housing of this bustling city. But money is money. Profit keeps this wheel of society turning. ❝Alright, what you’ve got so far is half the story. It’s my job. I’ve work to do, money to make.❞ He shakes his head with a hiss, sucking his teeth as he rests his upper half on the counter. ❝I’m busy, pal. I’m a professor at Alliance University—they’re the ones who fund me. I dunno, kiddo. This ‘s all too cryptic for my
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