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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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