@¨¨@@¨@@@¨                                          ¨@¨¨¨@¨¨¨@
@¨@¨@@¨¨@@                                          @@¨¨@@¨¨@¨
@@@@¨@¨@¨¨                                          ¨@¨@¨@¨@@@
¨¨¨@@@@@¨@                                          @@@@@@@¨¨¨
¨¨@¨¨¨¨@@@                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨@¨¨¨
¨@@¨¨¨@¨¨¨ I  FOLLOW THE TIRE TRACKS WEST. THEY  GO ¨¨¨¨¨@@¨¨¨
@¨@¨¨@@¨¨¨ PARALLEL  WITH THE  RAILROAD,  WITH  ITS ¨¨¨¨@¨@¨¨¨
@@@¨@¨@¨¨@ ENDLESS  MIRRORS LOOKING KINDA  OILY. AN ¨¨¨@@@@¨¨@
¨¨@@@@@¨@@ INCREDIBLE POWER BOUND THERE... THERE'S  ¨¨@¨¨¨@¨@¨
¨@¨¨¨¨@@¨@ A WIRE FENCE TO SEPARATE  THE TWO ROADS. ¨@@¨¨@@@@¨
@@¨¨¨@¨@@@                                          @¨@¨@¨¨¨@¨
¨@¨¨@@@¨¨¨ EVEN  THOUGH THERE'S  A FOGGY QUALITY TO @@@@@¨¨@@@
@@¨@¨¨@¨¨¨ THE AIR,  THE PATH I FOLLOW  IS GLOWING. ¨¨¨¨@¨@¨¨@
¨@@@¨@@¨¨¨ A  YELLOW-GREEN  MOSS  HAS   TAKEN  HOLD ¨¨¨@@@@¨@¨
@¨¨@@¨@¨¨@ WHERE  THE  MACHINES   WHO  MADE   THESE ¨¨@¨¨¨@@@¨
@¨@¨@@@¨@@ TRACKS ONCE  DISTURBED THE CLOVER FIELD. ¨@@¨¨@¨¨@@
@@@@¨¨@@¨¨                                          @¨@¨@@¨@¨¨
¨¨¨@¨@¨@¨¨ WE'RE OFF  THE  SEASON  WHEN  THE  BIRDS @@@@¨@@@¨@
¨¨@@@@@@¨@ SING BEAUTIFULLY.  THESE  DAYS IT'S JUST ¨¨¨@@¨¨@@@
¨@¨¨¨¨¨@@¨       SCREECHES, OR CALLS FOR HELP.      ¨¨@¨@¨@¨¨@
@@¨¨¨¨@¨@@                                          ¨@@@@@@¨@@
¨@¨¨¨@@@¨¨ I  THINK  OF  THE   JACKDAW   I   MAIMED @¨¨¨¨¨@@¨¨
@@¨¨@¨¨@¨¨   YESTERDAY. I FEAR THE DREAMING GATE.   @¨¨¨¨@¨@¨¨
¨@¨@@¨@@¨¨                                          @¨¨¨@@@@¨@
@@@¨@@¨@¨¨                                          @¨¨@¨¨¨@@@
¨¨@@¨@@@¨@                                          @¨@@¨¨@¨¨¨
¨@¨@@¨¨@@¨                                          @@¨@¨@@¨¨¨
@@@¨@¨@¨@¨                                          ¨@@@@¨@¨¨¨