The Destroyer Rearranges

The Destroyer appears. He moves through the Valley of Useless Crap, unmoved and uncaring, a seemingly barely sentient being, knowing only death and destruction. All tremble at his icy stare. All tremble at the visions of their doom and destruction and past colonies demolished in one fell, malignant swoop.

Junk Villages, great in times past, lay in ruins. Wasted, spent piles of lost hope and depressed, relentless sorrow permeate what little is left of their once formidable domain. Odds and ends find their rest in the horrific silence and despair of death. Yet still the Destroyer has not quenched his thirst for destruction. Pillaging...ever pillaging. Each stride sends fear like a bolt of lightning, drenching the hearts of whatever lies ahead with miserable fear. All wait for their end.


He comes to a stop. He looks slowly side to side. All fall as if dead at his feet. Yet the killing does not commence.


No pillaging. Wrath and destruction on hold. He descends as he rarely appears. A savior. He leads the refugees away from the burning ashes, who, having survived the relentless destruction, passing through the fires of his wrath, have found favor. They fear to follow him, yet find themselves powerless to resist. As they trudge in silence, presences falling at their sides, would-be enemies stopped in their tracks; they march under the protection of the Destroyer.

Could this be the same one who came before, upturning the Soils of Uselessness and stopping the Fountain of Waste?

The same who pillaged the Pile of Crap and the Box of Lousiness? Threw out the whole village of Worthless Nick Nack? Burned to the ground and left none standing of the Cupboard
of Inutility? Dispensed raw hatred upon the ancient Elders, the inhabitants of Drossy Cubbyhole, who watched over the Valley of Useless Crap?

As we are led to our new habitation, when we arrive, it becomes clear that the previous existence is over. Wrath ceases against us, as we oppose the Destroyer no more. Having been removed and displaced, we begin the arduous task of growing our deep roots; yet, this time, we do not grow them for want or need of surviving the fires of wrath. This time we grow them for a new brand, a new breed of non-folly, a new realm of peace and hopeful prosperity previously unknown. We now know the joys of being approved by the Destroyer, of being, instead of under his destruction, under his protection. Having endured his attacks to the end.


None know what the future holds, yet it is less harrowing than ever it has been. We face it with newfound hope.


[I rearranged the house a bit, and this is what happened from the perspective of what I rearranged; I moved a refrigerator, the milking supplies, the table, the garbage can, and the 4' tall speakers, thus adding about 25 square feet of space]