For the past week, I have been bent over my desk painting day after day. I occasionally produced a masterpiece, only for Copernicus the Dove to fly in with the painting in its beak, acting as if it were "collecting a debt."
It glared at me with furious, rolling eyes, seemingly blaming me for painting it so bizarrely that it couldn't find a soulmate. But to my eyes, the painting is clearly adorable and wonderfully charming.
What do you think, Wanderer?
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