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##¶#^^«^¨¨ I SIT IN MY CUBICLE  IN  THE  WORK  MILL ¨¨^«^^#¶##
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^«^¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ NO ONE  IS  HERE. THERE'S  DUST  IN  THE ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨^«^
«^¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ AIR.  A STRONG LIGHT  SHINES THROUGH THE ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨^«
^¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ WINDOWS,  AND  TURNS  THE   OFFICE  INTO ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨^
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ SOMETHING NEW.  I  PRETEND IT'S THE SUN. ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨   I SPEAK WITH THE PLANTS IN MY HEAD.    ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ THEY ARE GETTING TOO MUCH WATER, OR THE  ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨   WATER THEY GET IS OF DUBIOUS QUALITY.  ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
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