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..^«*§§&¶# Train Dream #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## ######....^«^^..##################### ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# *** #¶&§§*«^..
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.^«*§§&¶## ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# (Situation) #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# You Find Yourself In A Rift - A #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## Clearing, Narrow But Immeasurably Long. ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# To Your Sides Are Walls Made Of Trees, #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## Thick And Ready To Swallow You. The Sun ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# Is Nowhere To Be Seen, But Nontheless #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## It Is Very Bright - The Air Feels Light ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# Blue, Almost White. #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# Along The Span Of The Clearing Lay Two #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## Parallel SilverY Lines, Dark Hard ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# Metal. Somehow You Can See How Heavy #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## They Are. ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## They Emit A High Pitched Whine... ##¶&§§*«^.
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.^«*§§&¶## (Situation) ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## Youre At The Train station, On A ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# Catwalk Above The Rails. Your Train Is #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## Late, Or You Are Late To The Train. ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# It'S A Summer Afternoon And The Station #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## Is Busy, Full Of Relaxed Confidence. ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## You'Re In High Spirits, Although A Bit ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# Stressed About The Time, While Moving #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## Up The Stairs To Your Platform. The ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# Station Is In Several Levels, All #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## Placed Within Eachother By Some ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# Intelligent Designer, And Full Of #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## Stairs, ElevatorS, ShortcutS, ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# Bazaars... You Sight Your Train Through #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## Some Glass Windows. It'S... Not Where ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# It'S Supposed To Be? #¶&§§*«^..
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..^«*§§&¶# (Situation) #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# You'Re Finally Entering The City. While #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## It Is Indeed A Very High Speed Train ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# You'Re Traveling In, The Journey Has #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## Been Long. But It'S About To End! ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## Society Is Growing Denser Around You, ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# Through The Windows You See First Small #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## Shacks, Built Of Metal And Stone, Then ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# Proper Houses With Mortar To Keep Them #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## Together... Who In Turn Make Way For ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# The Industrial Buildings, The Urban #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## Maze, Protective Walls, Jungle ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# Network... #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# The Tracks Leave The Ground, Which Is #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## Needed For Other Purposes. You Are ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# Carried Gently, Curving Upwards Until #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## You'Re Moving Upward Along The Wall Of ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# A Building. It'S Made Of Slabby Stone, #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## With Great Glassless Window Holes ##¶&§§*«^.
..^«*§§&¶# Looking Out The Way You Came. It Is #¶&§§*«^..
.^«*§§&¶## Pitch Black Inside. ##¶&§§*«^.
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