The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A vast, perfectly circular lake stretches out, its calm surface reflecting the pale blue sky above like a mirror. Uh, the air's crisp and cool, with a faint smell of fish, and it's really still except for the sound of water lapping gently against the shore. A small, rickety wooden dock juts out into the lake, and somehow, a steady stream of fresh, folded newspapers is materializing on the dock's weathered boards, like they're being delivered from nowhere. The sun is high overhead, casting a warm glow over everything.