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##%;««¨¨¨¨              Morning Quiet               ¨¨¨¨««;%##
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#£££;,¨¨¨¨ I Sit  In  My Cubicle In The  Work  Mill ¨¨¨¨,;£££#
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###@£%;«,¨    Entered A Bright Anomaly. Morning     ¨,«;%£@###
##@#£%;«,¨                Liminality.               ¨,«;%£#@##
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####£%;«,¨ Air.  A  Strong Light Shines Through The ¨,«;%£####
####£%;«,¨ Windows,   And  Turns  The  Office  Into ¨,«;%£####
@@#£;,¨¨¨¨ Something New. I  Pretend  It'S The Sun. ¨¨¨¨,;£#@@
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##@#£%;«,¨    I Speak With The Plants In My Head.   ¨,«;%£#@##
##@#£%;«,¨  They Are Getting Too Much Water, Or The ¨,«;%£#@##
###££%;«,¨  Water They Get Is Of Dubious Quality.   ¨,«;%££###
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