Michael Malone - Weebly

etween Cecil Hedgerow and his elderly guest, but she
bridged the years with a wide grin. "Astounding. Look
at those two, totally recharged after what they went
through. Were we ever that young, Cecil?"
"Younger," replied the widower.
It was a pleasure to Miss Dingley to sit in this family
kitchen, to watch (after her worry and remorse) the
awesome regenerative capacity of the young. Fatigue
and corruption simply washes off them, she thought.
They recover. They forget. That's why they can bear to
rush headlong into so much more of everything—
including passion, hope, and grief—than anyone even
only thirty could stand to risk.
It was 7:30 when Evelyn Troyes, after driving
Father Fields up to the academy, knocked at her friend
Tracy's door. Mrs. Canopy was embarrassed to be
found in a butcher's apron, dining on prepackaged
shrimp newburg still in its tinfoil square. She had her
television set atop her dining room table, which, except
for the clearing where she sat, was covered with
newspapers, clay, paints, and a row of wobbly coffee
mugs fresh from the kiln. "Oh, my, Evelyn, please pay