The one thing I can't imagine is Malone growing old, Malone dying. When I see these old men at the gas station here, sitting in their rocking chairs and waving at the cars that occasionally go by, looking for the expressway to Savannah, I stare at the bones of their sharp or flabby faces and think: These were handsome men once. Very handsome men. The city hall is filled with their photographs, of baseball teams of 1910 and July Fourth fish frys and the installation of the county's first telephone pole. Not to mention I'm in love with half their grandsons!
Dancer from the Dance