Michael Malone - Weebly

to Beanie now.
"Your trip all right, I hope?"
"Yes, thank you, fine."
Tracy looked noticeably at her watch. "I should
hurry. I'm never prepared for that remedial class, no
doubt make such a fool of myself.
Beanie, you call me. Winslow, bye-bye." Mrs.
Canopy hurried down the street to her car. At five on
Thursday she taught remedial reading at Dingley Optical
Instruments to a small group of factory workers who
believed they could better themselves and stop being
factory workers.
As Tracy got into her Volvo, she looked around.
The Abernathys still stood on the sidewalk where she'd
left them. Sun flamed in Beanie's auburn hair. With his
hand Winslow shaded his eyes.
In her off-beige bedroom Mrs. Ernest Ransom was
trying some- thing new. She was a woman of education,
one who was, if not before the times, then at least, she
liked to think, not behind them. Indeed, her Sundays
were spent keeping up with the Times, at least