Popcorn kernels, scattered across the kitchen floor, crackle underfoot like tiny fireworks, remnants of last night's spontaneous movie marathon, now awaiting the broom's rescue.
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Observing people at the airport, I noticed a woman carefully peeling an orange. Her fingers seemed to dance, creating tiny spirals of zest that released sharp, citrusy aromas into the bustling terminal air.
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Caffeine's grip loosens its hold as steam rises from the chipped mug, revealing sunset hues through the kitchen window. Birds squabble over breadcrumbs scattered across forgotten wooden tables.
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