Chief Piece

Tens - no - hundreds of workers come in to get what they need. The non- animal eaters go to one side of the room to get their nourishment, while the meat devourers stick to the main courses. They all come flooding in at once, sending a ripple through the room. It was as if the flood had caused a spark to start an engine. Suddenly, there was noise. Lots of noise. So much noise that someone could get lost in it and never find their way out. The ripples of energy are all organized into parallel lines, each moving with great speed and efficiency, ensuring that each worker gets what they want. Occasionally, there is a disturbance in this natural order. There’s a huge crash, and everybody stares at the source of the disruption. The embarrased worker quickly gets the broom to mop it up, and continues their handling of the machines. Then, when everyone is satisfied, they go and throw all of it away. They throw away everything the machine spits out, usually the stuff they aren’t satisfied with. Eventually they all leave, as quickly as they came. The switch is turned off, and everything is  quiet and peaceful like I like it to be, but I can’t enjoy it at all. I too am a part of the machine. I must go as quickly as I came, and hurry off to my next course.