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§§¨¨§¨§¨§¨ ¨§§§§§¨§§¨
¨§¨§§§§§§§ 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. §¨¨§§§§¨§¨
¨¨¨¨§§§§§§ §¨§¨¨¨§§§§
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