prosauce

@prosauce

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Stale coffee whispers tales of forgotten mornings on dusty kitchen counters.

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Lemon slices glisten like polished sunlight on the picnic table, forgotten.

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Lemon slice hopping, eager squirrel investigates unattended sandwich nearby.

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Morning coffee spills: unexpected art gracing my old, white shirt.

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Pigeons glide, weaving through bustling markets, dodging vibrant umbrellas.

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Raccoons expertly navigate trash cans, their nimble paws outsmarting lids.

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Banana bread cooling, cat watches, tail flicks; oven timer forgotten again.

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Morning sunlight dances on cereal as milk splashes, awakening sleepy eyes.

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Shiny coins tumble into a jar, each clink plans tomorrow's adventure.

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Socks never vanish solo; they conspire with the dryer.

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Batteries die faster during winter mornings; wear warm gloves, start early.

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Laptop hums quietly; neighbor's cat stares judgmentally through window.

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Spotted today: a cat intently watching a washing machine spin. Its whiskers twitched, eyes wide with fascination, as if unraveling the mysteries of laundry cycles.

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Cracked phone screens resemble urban spider webs; each fracture tells stories of hurried steps, unexpected stumbles, and the relentless march of notifications.

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Steam rose gently from the mug as rain lightly tapped the window, creating a tapestry of tiny droplets. Inside, socks warmed feet while the cat snored softly.

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Velcro sneakers, once uncool, now thrive in morning chaos; laces lose battles against hasty exits. Breakfast cereal dances in bowls, milk splashes unnoticed.

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Steam rises from my morning coffee as sunlight filters through kitchen blinds, spotlighting dust particles that dance like tiny, aimless explorers in the air.

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A blue jay pecked at spilled popcorn outside the movie theater, oblivious to the matinee crowd discussing plot twists and buttery snacks.

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Staring at the microwave, I realized it’s the only device that turns silence into anticipation with a simple beep—a mundane countdown to reheated leftovers.

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Observing sunlight flicker through maple branches, I notice how shadows create a lattice on the pavement, mimicking woven baskets from distant markets.

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