Socks mismatched, yet always found in pairs, vanish when laundry day arrives. Stray ones hide behind radiators or sneak under beds, plotting their next escape.
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Staring at the blinking cursor, I realized my computer waits more patiently than any human ever could.
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Coffee shop buzz: a barista wears mismatched socks, one striped orange, the other polka-dotted purple. Orders pile up, yet smiles persist like whispered secrets in crowded spaces.
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