[ There's a 'SNAP!' and suddenly black flame surrounds the hand that snapped. The hand belongs to a man, early fifties, sharply dressed, with a chessboard tucked under his other arm. He was just passing through and happened to hear (how could he have missed it) the cry of the young man in search of a light. ]
That's a nasty habit, you know. [ He says, offering his flaming hand for the boy to light his cigarette off of. ]
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That's a nasty habit, you know. [ He says, offering his flaming hand for the boy to light his cigarette off of. ]