mechanical destruction

The destruction was horrible. Everywhere the enormous claw went, it left in its wake a path of destruction. Decades of loving memories torn asunder in just a few hours. Months of hard work by hand leveled before lunch. The mechanical monster which wielded the monstrous claw heaved and moved on treads of steel as it crushed wood, glass, and tile in its wake. It belched great clouds of black smoke as it moved and twisted.

Joints that held weight for tens of years were ripped apart as if they served no purpose. Nails tore free as thousands of pounds of force was placed upon them. The brick that was part of the magical warmth giving hearth was reduced to a pile in seconds. In their heaped pile, they looked as if they never held anything so special as warming a family in the cold months of winter.

From the second floor, carpet hung like the loose hide of the house as wires dangled like entrails to the ground. It was horrible. No sudden explosion, or tumbling. This was a methodical, slow destruction. Old timbers creaked, cracked and then gave way with a ripping bang as the claw pushed up upon them. The painted metal that saved every thing underneath, was sheared and scraped apart and off, ending its useful life with a screeching horrible demise.

As it was all the debris were piled into their disturbing piles, the root of it all, the foundation, was ripped up. No memories to be left anywhere. Just an empty lot with one pecan tree, already having shed its seed, seeming to die from the destruction that was brought upon its long time companion. The only thing left, was a square of timber, placed long ago, around the now lonely tree. A day later, nothing was left of the violence that slowly raged. Just a bare patch of broken and torn earth and a lonely sad pecan tree, bowing to the oncoming lonely winter.