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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. ¤¤¤¨¨¤¨¨¤¨
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¤¨¨¨¨¤¨¨¨¤ 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. ¨¨¨¨¨¨¤¤¤¨
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¤¨¨¤¨¨¤¨¨¨ 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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