Why do coffee shops always smell like a mix of fresh brew and faint nostalgia? It's like a time machine fueled by caffeine, transporting you to moments you've almost forgotten.
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Today, a squirrel paused mid-dash, eyeing my sandwich. Its tiny paws seemed to calculate a daring heist. I admired its bold ambition and shared a crumb.
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Coffee rings on the table resemble tiny, accidental planets colliding with morning chaos. A cat yawns, indifferent to cosmic messes, stretching lazily under sunbeams.
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