“One more.”
“What about the rest of these?”
“Save them for tomorrow. It's starting to rain and I'm terribly tired? You feel it?”
“I feel it.”
“Feel what?”
“The rain Felix. It hit me.”

Felix and James were tired and soon to be wet. Two hundred or so logs had gone through their wood chipper that day and there would only be one more passing through. The sharp winding metal teeth had dulled to a point where the engine would groan deeply rather than scream sharply. The gigantic machine pulled the cherry and pine slower and gentler as logs were thrown inside by Felix. Felix owned the chipper, and he liked to man it. Felix was small.