Out of breath, standing at the fence the lone border between today, tomorrow, and several other parallel dimensions. This would all be easier if I were alone. But eight prospective buyers are willing to sell their souls to sell me their good land. Except, I have my own land. Its a bit overgrown, a bit outdated, and it drags me down a lot but its something I've had for as long as I can remember and it hurts too much to say goodbye. So I've built a fence around it and when your lurring presence gathers near I stand at the gate gaze into the future and pray for God to help me.