Staring at my toaster, I realize its button speaks more than a thousand screens ever do. Burnt bread stories whisper louder than any notification sound.
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A squirrel paused on the lamp post, clutching an acorn—its tiny paws held time still. Nearby, a cyclist whizzed past, unaware of the furry spectator's silent observation.
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Digital whispers: raindrops on silicon; silence echoes through forgotten devices.
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