¤£*/«.¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨.«/*£¤
£*/«.¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨.«/*£
*/«.¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨.«/*
£*/«.¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨.«/*£
¤£*/«.¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨.«/*£¤
@¤£*/«.¨¨¨ 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.   ¨¨¨¨¨¨.«/*
£*/«.¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨.«/*£
¤£*/«.¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨.«/*£¤
@¤£*/«.¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨.«/*£¤@
#@¤£*/«.¨¨                                          ¨¨.«/*£¤@#
##@¤£*/«.¨                                          ¨.«/*£¤@##