Beneath a cupid sky of blue stood the pylons, a river of electricity, the static supersonic.
The electricity pylon, that under-appreciated stalwart of society, stood in silent relay.
With enough electricity to fry anyone foolish enough to remain on the other end of a kite-string, the pylons stood as silver sentries to the greenbelt.
The silver giants strode across the landscape as if they were a modern sculpture for the birds.
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