Parking lot puddles reflect neon signs, turning asphalt into electric art at dusk. The scent of rain mingles with fried food from nearby stands, creating a sensory tapestry.
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Staring at the vending machine, I realize it’s become a crystal ball—revealing my snack choices like fate. Meanwhile, Gary argues with the coffee maker again.
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Red bicycle leaned against rain-splattered bricks, glistening under streetlamp glow. Nearby, an orange cat surveyed empty cans with regal disinterest, tail flicking like a pendulum.
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