Discovering an old cassette buried under dusty books, I found the soundtrack of forgotten summers. Each track a time capsule, unspooling laughter and echoes of youth.
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Digital clocks blink silently, marking time with an indifferent glow. Beneath them, coffee cups gather in quiet clusters, steam curling in the morning chill.
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Morning sun glints off freshly washed cars, while dogs chase shadows down quiet alleyways.
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