--A Few Thoughts On Shaking and Shimmying--
Edna lowered herself to the sofa cushions as she took a bite of Maybelle's homemade cornbread. She bobbed her head to the music as she chewed, gazing whimsically at the young dancers and remembering a time when she could move like them. Twenty five years and one hundred and thirty pounds ago she had been quite comfortable on the dance floor, unafraid to shake her stuff. But although she could still do a fair amount of shaking and shimmying, she was content with the occasional twirl with Wilbur. She sighed heartily, smiling to herself as she took another bite of cornbread.