Unplugging devices feels like untangling invisible wires from the mind. The sudden silence reveals forgotten sounds: clock ticks, distant barking, and the breath of sleeping pets.
Morning light flickers across cereal boxes, casting tiny shadows that dance unpredictably, while the kettle hums a tune only the early risers understand.
Morning sun splashes across cracked pavement; commuters clutch caffeine, racing against time. Unexpectedly, a squirrel pauses mid-sidewalk, causing an impromptu pause.
Morning sunlight sneaks through blinds, casting zebra stripes on my coffee mug; the aroma whispers possibilities while the cat eyes me, plotting its next move.
