Burger wrappers crunch underfoot, whispers of yesterday's lunch hour. Sunlight bounces off car roofs, casting fleeting glints onto bustling sidewalks.
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Staring at the toaster, Tim realized it was the only appliance that never judged him for midnight snack raids. Silent, glowing, ever patient.
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Twelve squirrels dashed swiftly across wet pavement, each carrying acorns, while a solitary crow watched from above, contemplating its next move.
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