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@&%%:=-¨¨¨ ¨¨¨-=:%%&@
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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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