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The Fae Wynrie
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Michael White
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Michael White

The Fae Wynrie

language (EDP Jan. 12, 2012)
Albert was a tramp, though not just an ordinary tramp. He had the long weathered coat, the sturdy nose-high walking stick and creased and worn hat that looked as if it had seen better days. To complete his appearance he was also in possession of a long grey beard and whiskers. Several strands of grey hair stuck out from under his battered, almost flat hat, like feathers from a particularly unkempt bird’s nest. Tramps of course generally get a bad name with people who are - well, not tramps. Wino, vagrant, bum, dosser, so on and so forth. Although Albert was always being called at least one of these names, he was actually none of them.

He did not beg. He did not squat nor take any kinds of drugs. Tramps could also be thought of as drunkards perhaps, and usually not that fussy about what they were drinking; moonshine, spirits of dubious origin; or worse. Albert did not drink though. It was not that he didn’t like it. He thought he may possibly have been able to get used to an occasional pint of Guinness but he didn’t really feel the need to investigate any further than that. A real tramp would not need to be drunk all of the time. To him it was as daft an idea as driving or riding in a car or on a bus.

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