¨¨¨¨.»:$#¶ ¶#$:».¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨.»:$#¶@ @¶#$:».¨¨¨
¨¨.»:$#¶@# #@¶#$:».¨¨
¨.»:$#¶@## ##@¶#$:».¨
¨¨.»:$#¶@# #@¶#$:».¨¨
¨¨¨.»:$#¶@ i follow the tire tracks west. they go @¶#$:».¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨.»:$#¶ parallel with the railroad, with its ¶#$:».¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨.»:$# endless mirrors looking kinda oily. an #$:».¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨.»:$ 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. $:».¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨.»:$# #$:».¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨.»:$#¶ ¶#$:».¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨.»:$#¶@ @¶#$:».¨¨¨
¨¨.»:$#¶@# #@¶#$:».¨¨
¨.»:$#¶@## ##@¶#$:».¨