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It's a slushy January afternoon. No wonder the car didn't arrive for you. Hailing a cab is out of question, not with your cargo and in your condition. So you rush across Kensington, your shoes squelching what's left of the white stuff...
Something you overhear as you walk past a Kensington tea house:
"Fancy some import tea? Better stockpile it! With the damned war and everything."
"Good thing we shall always have Sri Lanka, at least..."
