The machine. It lives. It consumes material in a never-ending whine of screaming metal shredding whatever it runs into. The noise. The vibration. It drives into you. Your ears throb with the agony of tortured wood. Your bones ache will the pulsating rhythm of cutting edge and its odd shaped arms traversing the material bed. Your lungs coated in dust spewed from the voracious appetite of tightly controlled destruction. Finally sated, the eager monster shuts down. Peace and piece. Until the next one.
