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The Vagabond

Vag cut quite a figure, standing there, leaning on the mantel, holding a tall glass of his favorite liqueur and blowing thin streams of smoke into the musty air of his digs. It was a satisfying sight, thought Vag, as he contemplated himself. Almost completely pre-war, normal times, and all of that. His clothes were good: of a fine cut and hanging firmly from his broad shoulders. His white, but toned-down collar curled softly around the proper knot of his knitted tie. His feet rested comfortably in the plush soles of his thick wool seeks, which, in turn, fitted smoothly into his mouse-colored white shoes.

Vag warmed the glass with his hands and slowly sipped some of the liquor, inhaling it deeply as he raised the glass to his lips. Again, he lifted the cigarette and swallowed a long drag of the thick blue smoke, letting it curl out of the corners of his mouth. He posed. It was a beautiful sight.

Then he turned around and rested his other elbow on the mantel. He shook his drink a little, knocked an ash off from his cigarette into the fire place. He looked down at the fine crease of is grey flannel trousers, moving his foot until the cuff rested properly on the laces of his shoe. He tugged at his shirt a bit until the cuff made the correct distance from the end of is coat sleeve. He measured the distance with a crooked thumb. Then he moved his head up and down until his shirt collar fell snugly beneath his Adams-apple. He glanced at himself in the glass of a picture. It was fine.

Vag finished off the drink, and taking a long drag from his cigarette, casually flipped it into the fire place. It missed. He picked it up and tried again. The butt looped neatly into the shadows of the hearth, and Vag, following his reflected image in the glass, turned on a well-worn heel and sauntered over to his desk.

There were the books, the papers, the notes, piled up in confusion. Vag fingered a volume, dropped it. He ran his hand over the scattered papers, brushing a few ashes off the scribbled pages.

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Vag looked at his watch. It was time for his date.

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