The neolithic old straight track of the Ebury Way runs from Trentford to the medieval village of Dedham, passing close to Croxley Moor as it traces its ancient and mysterious trajectory through the region’s landscape. From the point at which the Ebury Way abrades against the harsh and uncompromisng boundaries of the Moor, one can see, rising from behind a nearby hill, the doleful, minimalist scaffold of a transmitter array - beyond which the prohibited latitudes wherein the ominous Ministry installation mentioned in yesterday’s post may be found.
Here the air thrums with insensate power, resonant with the numb indifference of the adjacent, dead landscape; the signal from the skeletal tower is broadcast along vectors both unknown, unrecognised, and inconceivable to its terrestrial audience: a dull, resonant throb whose transmission streams through ancient and glacial frequencies - frequencies which form the ontological echo of that mindless, abyssal, and primordial singularity which mistakenly birthed the universe...
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