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She needed three things: her notebook, a pen, and a place to sit. It was the lines she observed, the bones of structures, the movement of limbs, the light and the shadows. She would sketch in the morning, preferring the city as it woke, pedestrians strolling with delightful affirmations, birds singing to the new dawn, air thick with lusciously sweet baked goods. All welcoming her, begging her to capture the impossible.

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