Just get it out of there and lets get back to work. I climbed into the bowels of that big machine, it was like I was watching myself do it. God I was scared. Wheels spin and the cables sing on their drums. Up in the cab, I sit with a greasy cap perched on the back of my head.
Cigarette smoke drifts slowly around as rain patters on the grimy windows.
The dragline swings smoothly on its pinion as another bucket of silt splashes onto the pile. My hands rest on the levers. I pull and push just enough, just so. You d see grimy hands grasping levers whose bare steel handles are worn shiny smooth. You d see the river muck growing in its pile.