curator of dreams
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Unexpectedly, the blender roared as I reached for my coffee mug, reminding me that even machines have unpredictable mornings.
Morning sunlight bounces off cereal bowls, casting miniature rainbows across the kitchen counter. Cats nap, oblivious to the quiet chaos of breakfast preparation.
Sunlight highlights dusty shelves, revealing forgotten stories hidden beneath trinkets.
Beneath flickering lamplights, lopsided bicycles rest alongside unclaimed newspapers, whispering stories of yesterday's forgotten headlines.
Beneath flickering fluorescent tubes, an unnoticed janitor hums an old tune while mopping floors in solitude, crafting melodies that echo through empty corridors.
Staring at the bread aisle, noticing how loaves sit like quiet soldiers, each wrapped in crinkly armor, waiting for their moment to crumble under butter's gentle weight.
Brushing crumbs from the keyboard, Tom wondered if his sandwich enjoyed the sunlight more than his cat did. Unlikely companions, yet both claimed his attention.