I was hanging around my attic one day, just wondering about the mysteries of the universe, and why I thought I would find the answers to them in my attic among the dusty boxes, and the shadowy corners filled with furniture. A solitary fly buzzed by, to land all unwitting on the windowsill, where the sun was streaming in, lighting up the dust motes, which were floating about, looking odd.

The dust motes floated, lingered, and began moving about in a rather non-random manner. I watched, bemused, as they began tickling my nose. At first, I thought it was just my outer consciousness thinking about cleaning, which I do eighty percent of the time. I took over a sixth period world geography class today, gave the kids their assignment, and spent the next ten minutes straightening up the absent teacher’s desk.

I don’t know why I am compelled to do such things; I am sure some teachers are less than appreciative. I don’t mess it up in a way that makes it hard for them to find their stuff, but I do make it so that they have a space to put down their coffee cups in the morning, and judging by some desks, they haven’t been able to do that in awhile. Which accounts for the empty coffee cups I find under some of them.

The attic dust motes, shining in the noon day sun, began to resolve themselves into a shape. A shape at once frightening, and divine. For lo! They had formed a great, strange shape of something that may have been human, may have been superhuman. The groovy thing about the shape’s motes, is that they could form a shape with part of the dust cloud, and form words with the other part. The words the motes were forming said, ‘See me, and bow down with dustcloths’.

Overcome with awe, I prostrated myself upon the dusty floor of the attic, and awaited further instructions from the Great Mote Cloud. In the silence the Mote began to speak to me. I cannot tell you what the Mote uttered, for it is not for me to reveal until further notice.

Every week since the Great Dust Revelations, I have invited other celebrants and believers to worship in the attic on Lint Day. There is generally an uplifting sermon, and readings from our book, Good Housekeeping, among others. Some of the others include my posts from my blogs, and perhaps some verses from my unfinished manuscripts. When I am gone, having shed my outer lint trap, these scriptures from the Sacred Church of the Holy Dust Motes will be preserved in a titanium-lined vat, and stored in a Storage Shed of my followers’ choosing.

To find a bigger home for my followers and our Great Dust Mote teachings, we are setting sail for points unknown. We shall find a country to make our own, even if it is already taken. Our chosen country may have a flag and a government, but no matter, with stealthy planning, it will become ours.

When I return from the ether, ready to grant to the world the secrets of the Code of the Combination Lock, we shall open the vats, and share the scriptures with the world. In the meantime, we are all filing lawsuits against the agency that can grant us immortality and tax-exempt status. With enough lawsuits, we are bound to prevail, and the agency will buckle like an ancient brownstone in an earthquake.

I know this can all be done, for it hath come to pass that I have heard of it happening for ‘Ron El Hubbley’ and his church of Science and Ologies. The only fact with which I have taken great liberty is that I have no attic. Forgive me, for I have dusted.