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#&&%*~.¨¨¨               MORNING QUIET              ¨¨¨.~*%&&#
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#&&%*~.¨¨¨ I SIT IN  MY  CUBICLE  IN THE  WORK MILL ¨¨¨.~*%&&#
&&%*~.¨¨¨¨ AND  FEEL  SOMEWHAT   AT  PEACE  -  I'VE ¨¨¨¨.~*%&&
&%*~.¨¨¨¨¨     ENTERED A BRIGHT ANOMALY. MORNING    ¨¨¨¨¨.~*%&
%*~.¨¨¨¨¨¨               LIMINALITY.                ¨¨¨¨¨¨.~*%
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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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