The Machines

Enormous metal giants lumbered across the landscape, shaking the earth with each step. They did not resemble humans, but instead they appeared to be giant makeshift machines with exposed engines and framework. The rust ate away at their shambled parts, covering their gears and their cables in thick coatings of golden brown dust. Their joints screamed with agony as they lifted their powerful legs and stamped down on the barren earth. It was their feet that were especially impressive. They were shaped like massive domes that resembled the outer shells of huge stadiums. It seemed like an impossible feat for the machines to be able to even lift them, and every time they placed a foot on the ground, it seemed as though they would sigh with relief. 

Author's Note

Only an excerpt from something I'm working on. Let me know what you think of the style/concept, or just any other criticism you might have.

Reviews

[...]

. it's very poetic prose ... the personification is excellent and innovative ... one doesn't usually think that machines would "sigh with relief" ... or ... that "their joints would scream" ...