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Sunlight bounces off the chrome kettle, casting tiny reflections across the kitchen wall. Morning simplicity, brewed fresh with a hint of daydreams.
Steam rises from coffee, curling into morning air. A squirrel darts past, tail twitching, eyes alert. Laughter echoes; a child's kite dances overhead.
Freshly baked bread cools on the windowsill, while a cat watches a distant squirrel dart across the garden, the air sweet with possibility.
Leftovers from last night's lasagna make a better breakfast than eggs. Why? No explanation; just trust the cheesy magic in that cold slice.