You always were nostalgic. Although the past wasn't necessarily all that kind to you, the present holds no special place for you either. And with your cynical outlook, you have no desire to look into your future. "I'll take Past, make it a double," you say.
The bartender bring you a large mug, full to the brim. "That'll be three dollars."
"Here, and buy yourself one too, join me," you reply, pushing a ten across the bar.
"Thanks anyway, but I swore off the stuff," the bartender replies, as he pours himself a glass of tap water.
"That stuff will kill you," you joke.
You take a sip of your drink. It tastes so good that you chug it all down greedily, without stopping. A familiar flavor, but one you can't quite place. It brings back memories, like the smell of rain on pavement on a hot summer's day, or the warm scent of a woman from your distant past...
"Have a nice trip, see you when ya get back," the bartender says.
The room starts to sway and swirl, the light fading from your eyes. You grab the edge of the bar tightly, unconsciously reluctant to give up your grip on the Present...
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