Clumsy Kaiju stumbling through city unaware of the damage its causing – been falling for miles, should it ever hit the ground the sound produced would loosen the foundation of whatevers left standing – not much – but the people still weep for their homes – alone with themselves for the first time, nothing, no things to keep company or distract – bric-a-brac absence – where’s the absinthe they’ll do anything to hallucinate – pretend again and again to still have control though the tools to maintain it were among the first things crushed – dust – inconsequential fuss – ants swarming the ankles of a sociopath with magnifying glass – multitudes scorched by sunbeam to protect queen but that which they consider royalty only makes more protectorates – fighting for the right to maintain, to be replaced – good soldiers know their place no matter how unwinnable the war.