Human Machines by Neil and Connor (Creative writing)

The glistening pure saltwater was a rushing light, reflecting and shining, as the workers labored until their brains would soon overheat. The wood planks wobbled beneath them, as they pulled the dirty, green nets out of the galvanized steel pipes. The cliffs overlooked the green, spotted mainland, with white sandy beaches and tall, giant palm trees. The boats circle the main, rusty workboat, getting closer and closer, ordering the workers to go faster and faster, slower and slower. The dirty, fly-covered rags of the filthy slaves litter the wooden planks with dirt, germs and viruses. The jaded workers wish they can go back to their grass bivouacs and tiny, uncared children.

They truly are human machines.