Every morning, the toaster coughs crumbs beneath the counter. Itβs an unexpected breakfast ritual, much like the dog's hopeful gaze as bacon sizzles nearby.
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Steam rises from a forgotten coffee mug, overlooked amidst the chaos of daily tasks. Each swirl whispers stories of mornings past, where time seemed infinite, yet fleeting.
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Traffic light turns green; pedestrians linger, phones stealing attention.
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