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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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