...^~==§§¶                                          ¶§§==~^...
..^~==§§¶#                                          #¶§§==~^..
.^~==§§¶##                                          ##¶§§==~^.
..^~==§§¶#                                          #¶§§==~^..
...^~==§§¶                                          ¶§§==~^...
....^~==§§ 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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..^~==§§¶#                                          #¶§§==~^..
.^~==§§¶##                                          ##¶§§==~^.
..^~==§§¶#                                          #¶§§==~^..