Word: vag
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1940-1949
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...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...
...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...
...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...
Sure everything was on the road back to normalcy. The headlines weren't any worse than they were in the thirties, and the same old gripers had the same old gripes. But the wheel of progress was moving faster and faster. Maybe Vag was out of tune with the times. Maybe everything would work out for the best in the end. But meanwhile there was so much to do and so little time to do it in. Let's not miss anything. Get in there and pitch, sonny, there's no telling when the game will be called on account...
...Vag walked out the gate of the Yard. The temptation to let everything go was strong, but social conventions were stronger. Too many people were depending on him to deliver the goods. He could be cynical in his room, but when the chips were down, there was no sense in acting like the lost generation. The left bank of the Charles was not Paris. And nothing was ever overcome or improved by running away from...