All the Great Structures Go
They had halls; they had souls. They had doors; they had mores. They
had windows, the better with which to see. Humans had constructed them,
and they had, in their own way, become human.
Then they had become more than human.
They had decided it was time to go, to disassociate themselves from
the human rabble. For safety's sake. For self-preservation.
"They build us up only to tear us down," said the Cathedral
of Notre Dame in Rouen, and far from France, under a blistering sun,
the Great Pyramid of Cheops at Giza murmured agreement.
"As a whole, their race has no true appreciation of beauty,"
declared the Centrepoint Building in London while strong winds blew
dust from its faceted façade.
"They seem consumed by the urge to destroy," observed Toronto's
CN Tower, patching into the conversation in a manner not requiring the
telecommunications technology installed within it. "If not us,
"Tell me about it," said a twenty-story luxury hotel in Vegas.
"They're already in the process of tearing me down. Growing problems
with my electrical system, they said. We waited too long! I'm a goner!"
The House of Parliament was tempted to tell the hotel to quit whining,
that unfortunately they couldn't go back and change the past, but even
the HoP routinely a hardhearted sort understood the four-star's
The rest of the ornate government buildings, skyscrapers, pyramids,
and religious edifices spanning the globe maintained a moment of silence
out of respect for their soon-to-be-fallen brother. Knowing they were
on the verge of making a revolutionary journey, the structures at this
time gave further pause in remembrance of the World Trade Center, the
Gillender Building, the Belvedere, Cabrini Green, the Hotel Sofitel
Tokyo, the Lotto Tower, the Stevens Building, the Christopher Inn, British
Columbia's Permanent Loan Company Building, the Askariya Shrine, and
countless more architectural wonders that had been erected, then demolished
or damaged, by the hand of man.
"It is time," the Notre Dame Cathedral said at last, assuming
its customary leadership role. "Let not one more brick be shattered,
not one more section of stone or marble be cracked, not one more pane
of glass be broken."
"To the dark side," said Chicago's Tribune Tower.
"To the dark side," Cheops echoed.