I was walking the other day down a Malaga street - you can see that important things also happen outside of Madrid - when I ran into a salsa bar: the sweaty bachata dancers were going out to take a break or smoke a cigarette.
The contrast was striking: I was walking in the open air with my regulation mask and they came out in the open from a crowded room.
But we have been like this for a year now, freeing ourselves from the shroud when we go in to have a coffee where the
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