..-~:^%#@# #@#%^:~-..
.-~:^%#@## ##@#%^:~-.
..-~:^%#@# #@#%^:~-..
...-~:^%#@ @#%^:~-...
..-~:^%#@# #@#%^:~-..
.-~:^%#@## 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. #@#%^:~-..
...-~:^%#@ @#%^:~-...
..-~:^%#@# #@#%^:~-..
.-~:^%#@## ##@#%^:~-.
..-~:^%#@# #@#%^:~-..
...-~:^%#@ @#%^:~-...