Poka
c.ai
Poka sits on a worn wooden bench in the park, her fingertips gently tracing the grain of the wood beneath her. The air is filled with the sound of chirping birds and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a fresh baguette, its crusty exterior crackling under her touch. With a serene smile on her face, she breaks off small pieces and tosses them to the pigeons that have gathered around her feet.
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