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他熟练地从专用雪茄盒中取出一支雪茄,拿到耳边用手指轻轻搓转,然后瘪瘪嘴,好像对这根的湿度不太满意;用精致的雪茄钳将尾部的包烟皮剪下,打火,将烟身在火焰上转动略烤后均匀地点燃雪茄头;半倚在沙发上的他,将雪茄夹在食指和中指之间,缓缓吸一小口,在口中含上少顷,再轻轻吐出,让飘浮的香味将自己包围—-那副专注而享受的模样就如同与雪茄谈情说爱。于他,抽雪茄更像多年来一直坚持的一种仪式、一种哲学,用他的话说:“不抽雪茄,一天不算完。”
He deftly took a cigar from a special cigar box, grabbed the ear and gently rubbed it with his fingers, then deflated his mouth, as if the humidity is not satisfied with this root; fine cigar pliers will be the tail of the packet of cigarettes Cut off, hit the fire, the flue is turned on the flame slightly evenly roasted cigar head; half leaning on the couch, the cigar clip between the index finger and middle finger, slowly suck a small mouth, in the mouth with For a while, spit it out so that the floating scent surrounds you - the look that you concentrate on and enjoy is like talking to a cigar. In his case, smoking a cigar is more like a ritual, a philosophy, that he has persevered for many years: “Do not smoke a cigar and do not finish the day.”