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From: Omaha Steak Selection <omaha@fireshouselistens.com>
Reply-To: omaha@fireshouselistens.com
Subject:  Get Your Steak SampIer From 0maha-Steaks - 500 Remain - Today
To:  bruce@untroubled.org
Date: Mon, 15 Dec 2025 20:03:15 -0500
Message-ID: <iMW6ZDwn-N5aajDuC2ain4Di9.1264@fireshouselistens.com>
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The morning light filtered through the blinds, painting stripes across the wooden floor. I stretched, listening to the distant hum of the city beginning its day. My coffee machine sputtered to life, a familiar and comforting sound. On the counter, a notepad held a list from the previous evening: call about the garden, pick up the dry cleaning, find that book I'd been meaning to read. The cat wove figure-eights around my ankles, voicing a quiet demand for breakfast. I poured the coffee, the rich aroma filling the kitchen. It was a Tuesday, ordinary in its promise. Later, I planned to walk through the park, maybe sit on a bench and watch the ducks on the pond. The weather report suggested a chance of rain in the afternoon, so I made a mental note to take an umbrella. The neighbor's dog barked a cheerful greeting as someone passed by the fence. I thought about the conversation I'd had with my sister last night, about her plans to visit next month. We'd discussed possible day trips, museums she hadn't seen, and a new restaurant that had opened downtown. She was excited to see the changes in the neighborhood. I finished my coffee and rinsed the mug, placing it in the dishwasher. The day stretched ahead, full of small, manageable tasks and the quiet rhythm of routine. I opened the window a crack, letting in a cool breeze that carried the scent of damp earth and blooming flowers from the yard. It was going to be a good day for getting things done, for moving slowly and with purpose. The postman's truck rumbled down the street, a signal that the world outside was fully awake. I turned my attention to the day's first task, feeling a sense of calm readiness.
OMAHA STEAKS
Premium cuts delivered for your table
A Gourmet Sampler from Our Kitchen
We are providing a selection of our hand-selected steaks at no charge to participants. This program has 500 samplers available, with one per household. Please respond by Tomorrow.
Each cut in this sampler is hand-selected by our experts and immediately flash-frozen. This process preserves the texture and rich flavor from our kitchens to yours. You will not be billed for the sampler; it is covered by the program for this offer.
The sampler includes a variety of our most appreciated cuts, detailed for you below. This collection is typically valued above six hundred dollars.
See What's Included
Your Sampler Contents
Four Ribeye Steaks
Six Top Sirloin Steaks
Four New York Strip Steaks
Four Filet Mignon Steaks
Availability is based on program allocation.
We appreciate your interest in Omaha Steaks.
The library was quiet, a sanctuary of soft light and the faint smell of old paper. I ran my fingers along the spines of the books, reading titles etched in gold and faded ink. I was looking for nothing in particular, just enjoying the search. In a corner near a large window, an older gentleman was deeply absorbed in a thick volume, occasionally adjusting his glasses. I found a section on botany and pulled out a book with detailed illustrations of ferns. The pages were delicate, requiring a gentle touch. I sat at a nearby wooden table, the surface smooth and cool. For a while, there was no sound but the turning of pages and the distant shuffle of feet. My thoughts drifted to the weekend ahead, to the simple pleasure of having no fixed plans. Perhaps I would go for a long drive, explore a road I hadn't taken before. Or maybe I would stay in, finally tackle that puzzle that had been sitting on the coffee table for weeks. The important thing was the freedom of choice, the open space of time. A librarian passed by, pushing a cart laden with books to be reshelved. She offered a small, professional smile, which I returned. The light from the window shifted as a cloud passed outside, dimming the room for a moment before brightening again. I closed the book on ferns and replaced it carefully on the shelf. It was time to go. I walked out into the afternoon, the noise of the street a sudden contrast to the library's hush. I decided to walk home, taking the longer route through the residential streets. Gardens were in full bloom, a riot of colors against green lawns. Someone was teaching a child to ride a bicycle, holding the back of the seat as they wobbled forward. I watched for a moment, remembering the feeling of balance finally clicking into place. The air was warm, carrying the sound of lawnmowers and distant laughter. I thought about what to make for dinner, mentally cataloging the ingredients in my refrigerator. Something simple, perhaps a salad and an omelet. The walk home felt refreshing, a moment of movement between the stillness of the library and the comfort of my own space. I reached my front steps, feeling a familiar sense of contentment. The day was winding down, but it had been full of small, good moments. I unlocked the door, ready for the quiet of the evening.

http://www.fireshouselistens.com/oguqofzmiuke

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<!DOCTYPE html>
<html lang="en">
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0">
</head>
<body style="margin:0;padding:20px 0;background-color:#f8f4ec;font-family:'Times New Roman', Times, serif;color:#2e2e2e;">
<div style="display:none;font-size:1px;color:#f8f4ec;line-height:1px;font-family:Arial;max-height:0px;max-width:0px;opacity:0;overflow:hidden;mso-hide:all;">
The morning light filtered through the blinds, painting stripes across the wooden floor. I stretched, listening to the distant hum of the city beginning its day. My coffee machine sputtered to life, a familiar and comforting sound. On the counter, a notepad held a list from the previous evening: call about the garden, pick up the dry cleaning, find that book I'd been meaning to read. The cat wove figure-eights around my ankles, voicing a quiet demand for breakfast. I poured the coffee, the rich aroma filling the kitchen. It was a Tuesday, ordinary in its promise. Later, I planned to walk through the park, maybe sit on a bench and watch the ducks on the pond. The weather report suggested a chance of rain in the afternoon, so I made a mental note to take an umbrella. The neighbor's dog barked a cheerful greeting as someone passed by the fence. I thought about the conversation I'd had with my sister last night, about her plans to visit next month. We'd discussed possible day trips, museums she hadn't seen, and a new restaurant that had opened downtown. She was excited to see the changes in the neighborhood. I finished my coffee and rinsed the mug, placing it in the dishwasher. The day stretched ahead, full of small, manageable tasks and the quiet rhythm of routine. I opened the window a crack, letting in a cool breeze that carried the scent of damp earth and blooming flowers from the yard. It was going to be a good day for getting things done, for moving slowly and with purpose. The postman's truck rumbled down the street, a signal that the world outside was fully awake. I turned my attention to the day's first task, feeling a sense of calm readiness.
</div>
<center>
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="max-width:600px;margin:0 auto;">
<tr>
<td style="padding:30px 20px 20px;background-color:#ffffff;border-radius:8px 8px 0 0;border-bottom:3px solid #84353a;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="text-align:center;">
<div style="font-size:42px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:1px;color:#84353a;line-height:1;margin-bottom:8px;font-family:Georgia, serif;">OMAHA STEAKS</div>
<div style="font-size:16px;color:#6a6a6a;font-style:italic;border-top:1px solid #e3dbd2;padding-top:12px;max-width:400px;margin:0 auto;">Premium cuts delivered for your table</div>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:30px 20px;background-color:#ffffff;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="padding-bottom:20px;border-left:4px solid #c9a13e;padding-left:15px;">
<h1 style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:28px;color:#2e2e2e;margin:0 0 8px 0;line-height:1.3;">A Gourmet Sampler from Our Kitchen</h1>
<p style="font-size:17px;color:#5a5a5a;margin:0;line-height:1.5;">We are providing a selection of our hand-selected steaks at no charge to participants. This program has 500 samplers available, with one per household. Please respond by Tomorrow.</p>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:0 20px 25px;background-color:#ffffff;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td>
<p style="font-size:16px;line-height:1.6;color:#3a3a3a;margin-top:0;">Each cut in this sampler is hand-selected by our experts and immediately flash-frozen. This process preserves the texture and rich flavor from our kitchens to yours. You will not be billed for the sampler; it is covered by the program for this offer.</p>
<p style="font-size:16px;line-height:1.6;color:#3a3a3a;">The sampler includes a variety of our most appreciated cuts, detailed for you below. This collection is typically valued above six hundred dollars.</p>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:0 20px 30px;background-color:#ffffff;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="text-align:center;">
<a href="http://www.fireshouselistens.com/oguqofzmiuke" style="background-color:#84353a;color:#ffffff;font-size:18px;font-weight:bold;text-decoration:none;padding:18px 40px;border-radius:6px;display:inline-block;font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;box-shadow:0 3px 8px rgba(132, 53, 58, 0.2);">See What's Included</a>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:0 20px 30px;background-color:#ffffff;">
<h2 style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:22px;color:#2e2e2e;margin:0 0 15px 0;text-align:center;">Your Sampler Contents</h2>
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td width="50%" style="vertical-align:top;padding-bottom:10px;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="background-color:#faf6f0;border:1px solid #d8cec4;border-radius:6px;padding:15px;height:100%;">
<ul style="margin:0;padding-left:20px;color:#3a3a3a;font-size:16px;line-height:1.8;">
<li>Four Ribeye Steaks</li>
<li>Six Top Sirloin Steaks</li>
</ul>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
<td width="50%" style="vertical-align:top;padding-bottom:10px;padding-left:10px;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="background-color:#faf6f0;border:1px solid #d8cec4;border-radius:6px;padding:15px;height:100%;">
<ul style="margin:0;padding-left:20px;color:#3a3a3a;font-size:16px;line-height:1.8;">
<li>Four New York Strip Steaks</li>
<li>Four Filet Mignon Steaks</li>
</ul>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
<div style="text-align:center;font-size:14px;color:#787878;font-style:italic;padding-top:15px;border-top:1px dashed #e3dbd2;margin-top:10px;">Availability is based on program allocation.</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:25px 20px;background-color:#ffffff;border-radius:0 0 8px 8px;border-top:1px solid #f0e9df;">
<p style="font-size:15px;color:#5a5a5a;text-align:center;margin:0;line-height:1.5;">We appreciate your interest in Omaha Steaks.</p>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
<div style="height:4px;background-color:#7a2a2f;max-width:600px;margin:20px auto 0;border-radius:2px;"></div>
</center>
<div style="font-size:8px;line-height:1.4;color:#f0e9df;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;max-width:600px;margin:30px auto 0;padding:0 20px;">
The library was quiet, a sanctuary of soft light and the faint smell of old paper. I ran my fingers along the spines of the books, reading titles etched in gold and faded ink. I was looking for nothing in particular, just enjoying the search. In a corner near a large window, an older gentleman was deeply absorbed in a thick volume, occasionally adjusting his glasses. I found a section on botany and pulled out a book with detailed illustrations of ferns. The pages were delicate, requiring a gentle touch. I sat at a nearby wooden table, the surface smooth and cool. For a while, there was no sound but the turning of pages and the distant shuffle of feet. My thoughts drifted to the weekend ahead, to the simple pleasure of having no fixed plans. Perhaps I would go for a long drive, explore a road I hadn't taken before. Or maybe I would stay in, finally tackle that puzzle that had been sitting on the coffee table for weeks. The important thing was the freedom of choice, the open space of time. A librarian passed by, pushing a cart laden with books to be reshelved. She offered a small, professional smile, which I returned. The light from the window shifted as a cloud passed outside, dimming the room for a moment before brightening again. I closed the book on ferns and replaced it carefully on the shelf. It was time to go. I walked out into the afternoon, the noise of the street a sudden contrast to the library's hush. I decided to walk home, taking the longer route through the residential streets. Gardens were in full bloom, a riot of colors against green lawns. Someone was teaching a child to ride a bicycle, holding the back of the seat as they wobbled forward. I watched for a moment, remembering the feeling of balance finally clicking into place. The air was warm, carrying the sound of lawnmowers and distant laughter. I thought about what to make for dinner, mentally cataloging the ingredients in my refrigerator. Something simple, perhaps a salad and an omelet. The walk home felt refreshing, a moment of movement between the stillness of the library and the comfort of my own space. I reached my front steps, feeling a familiar sense of contentment. The day was winding down, but it had been full of small, good moments. I unlocked the door, ready for the quiet of the evening.
</div>
</body>
</html>

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