Staring at the toaster, Sarah realized it had become her morning oracle, popping out answers between slices.
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Morning coffee ritual: hand-me-down mug, chipped handle, steam rising, sunlight catching dust motes. Neighbor's car radio blares classic rock. Cat naps, unfazed.
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Spilled coffee on my keyboard again. Now, the spacebar's sticky, turning my emails into wordsalad. Time to embrace the art of unintentional haiku.
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