A line chip fragment on the floor of El Tore. It's loss is almost poetic in a way...
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A beautiful life, wasted. Fallen from it's peel in the prime of it's life, and lost to the barren wasteland of the cold, concrete floor. Never to fulfill it's purpose.
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A lonesome Cheerio beneath the fridge. Hiding from it's fate like the rest of us.
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A lone piece of cliff bar. Staring longingly out the window at the open world. Wishing for a chance to explore it, but knowing that chance will never come.
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