Unattended umbrellas always seem to congregate in office corners, as if silently forming alliances against sudden downpours.
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Morning traffic reveals an unnoticed ballet: vehicles pirouette, cyclists weave, pedestrians dash, each movement choreographed by the rhythm of the city's pulse.
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Staring at the blinking cursor, Kevin realized he'd been typing his password incorrectly for the past ten minutes, his coffee growing cold beside him.
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