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The ice has already melted into the liquor. I grab a match box to fiddle with. The abundance of matches seems significant in these days of scarcity, almost like a declaration of how rich the information offered in this bar is. Good enough to burn it all down. "—so before I get impatient..." I rub the side of the box with my thumb as I wish they'd kick the eyesores out. (Sabareta, reprinted from Beacons of Revolution)
