Morning light spills over yesterday's rain-soaked pavement, revealing tiny rivers where ants navigate. A forgotten umbrella, tattered, leans nearby, hinting at stories untold.
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Staring at the toaster, I noticed the crumb tray was full again. Perhaps breadcrumbs secretly multiply overnight, plotting tiny rebellions against cleanliness.
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Morning coffee ritual: stirring milk clockwise in a blue ceramic mug while watching the neighbor’s tabby cat balance perfectly atop the wobbly fence.
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