An empty street at dusk, bathed in warm orange light. Fallen leaves scatter gent
An empty street at dusk, bathed in warm orange light. Fallen leaves scatter gently in the wind. A lone traffic signal blinks softly. The air feels nostalgic, as if time is standing still. No people, only the quiet trace of someone who once passed.
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An empty street at dusk, bathed in warm orange light. Fallen leaves scatter gently in the wind. A lone traffic signal blinks softly. The air feels nostalgic, as if time is standing still. No people, only the quiet trace of someone who once passed.
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