Morning light played tricks, coloring pavement with shadows. A lone cyclist passed, their laughter echoing off buildings. Nearby, coffee steam drifted lazily skyward.
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Waffles cooling on the counter resemble little maps of secret breakfast worlds, while cats nap beside the humming refrigerator, dreaming of yesterday's tuna feast.
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Discovered an old cassette under my bed today. Instantly transported to Sunday mornings when Dad played his favorite tunes while making pancakes. The smell of syrup lingers.
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