Michael Malone - Weebly

Dixwell High.
"Ben Rough still your favorite?" The pharmacist
asked this every time Luke bought a book.
"Sure, next to Chandler."
"Ah, well," agreed Sammy Smalter.
The bell on the screen door chinkled. Luke turned,
but it wasn't Joy. It was the post office lady whom Mrs.
MacDermott had been blabbing all about Maynard
Henry to in the checkout line. He noticed that she
looked tense. She was a tall woman with her hair
twisted around the nape of her neck the way nobody
wore her hair these days. And she had remarkably blue
eyes without anything done to fix them up. Her clothes
looked different, too, as if she didn't much notice what
she (or other women) wore. They looked good on her,
though, because she had that kind of body, nice
breasts, and a straight way of standing. Sort of an Ingrid
Bergman look to her, he decided. Not sexy, nothing of
course like Jean Harlow, who reminded him of what
Joy Strummer was going to look like in a few more
years.
"Mrs. Haig. I was waiting. I have it ready." Mr.