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What's always coming, but never arrives?
This became a fashion statement in the garden of Eden.
My second is performed by my first, and it is thought a thief by the marks of my whole might be caught.
Long and thin, red within, with a nail at the end.
My life is measured in hours. I serve by being devoured. Thin, I am quick; Fat, I am slow. Wind is my foe. What am I?
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