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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. \«^.......
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.........^ WE'RE  OFF  THE  SEASON  WHEN  THE BIRDS ^.........
.......... SING  BEAUTIFULLY.  THESE DAYS IT'S JUST ..........
..........      SCREECHES, OR CALLS FOR HELP.       ..........
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.........^ I   THINK  OF  THE   JACKDAW   I  MAIMED ^.........
........^«   YESTERDAY. I FEAR THE DREAMING GATE.   «^........
.......^«\                                          \«^.......
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....^«\**@                                          @**\«^....
...^«\**@#                                          #@**\«^...