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Show 12, Jeffries, Islamorada [Section 4] "This," he acknowledged with a wave, taking in two old red buses, the portable classrooms and the practice field lined down near the beach, "this is really your whole life, isn't it. . ." The next few weeks brought the busy time for a teacher, and the experience out to sea took its perspective, and times, shortly, looking out to the vanishing point, he would wonder if he had really gone, if he had really even floated out there at all, or if, as even the most talented of his little pupils would write, from time to time, and almost apologetically, at the end of their fine fancies: 'But when I woke up, I discovered it had all been a dream. . .' Well his brother was getting to the box office. There he was again in the October Playboy, and Dorian Clayton was rubbing his eyes--Dan was in bed with five nude and lovely sorority girls in an autumn piece the magazine was calling Slumber Party. In a busy sort of sense of being a brother's keeper, Dorian Clayton fretted about the young man, and the possible harms of promiscuity. He hurried off a letter to his brother and he thought it was kind of poignant how he wrote '--a pile of them, but some nice girls, maybe? I mean think, Dan, the |
