Angel of the Night, pt 1

Maxine moaned as the alarm clock buzzed in her ear. One long skinny arm shot out from the make-up stained sheets and slapped it into silence. The other arm appeared and slowly dragged the covers down off her head, the gray roots of her hair better matching the tired, lined face than the brassy, over-processed curls perched on top. Smacking her lips to bring the saliva back up, Maxine sat up in bed and reached for the remote. Damn! She’d missed “The Brave and the Bold” again! It was already 3 PM. Worthless alarm clock! She threw it against the closet door, and then, for good measure, threw a box of tissues at it.

Still smacking her mouth, Maxine slid out of bed and pushed her bunions into the ragged terry slippers waiting there. On her way to the bathroom, she detoured a little to walk by the mirror. Lookin’ good, Sista! You go! Maxine smiled coyly at herself as she fluffed her frizzy curls around her face, ignoring the flat back of her bed-hair. Stepping over the box of tissues she paused at the window, just in case the peeper in the conterminous apartment was watching and then stepped into the bathroom, pulling the string that turned the overhead bulb on.