Maxwell’s day started when most people’s day ended, and his ended when most began theirs. As
he walked to the subway from the radio station, he was happy for some
reason. The night shift had gone
as it usually did. “Hippie Radio” wasn’t his first choice of places to work,
but things led to other things, and he found himself on the late-night shift at
KWHR. He was enthralled with the vast selection of music, and he was able to
play what interested him for the most part. At times, the previous DJ left a few request that she didn’t
get to, and he also had a few callers, but otherwise, his playlist were of his
own making.
The morning crew was not as obnoxious as they usually are,
they more than likely had a few late nights in a row. They were, as they constantly reminded everyone, the hottest
party ticket in town. He left them with one of his favorite Beatles tracks,
Norwegian Wood, and Woody complained that it wasn’t long enough to make the
transition, so he played a Grateful Dead song as a follow-up. Woody hated the Dead. Woody hated music in general. He did
sports, weather, news and traffic.
As Maxwell exited the subway stop he headed to the
diner. 3rd seat at the
counter, June had already poured his coffee. The radio was humming with a
Swift’s “Shake it off.”
June nodded and said, “Nice playlist, Max.”
“Thanks.”
Edgar plated up the eggs and toast and slid them over to
him. “The Christmas songs were the best.” He said and turned back to the grill.
As he looked out his 7th floor window, he saw the
fog mingle with the trees in the park and the shadow of the college looming in
the background. He turned to face the
wall of vinyl, reached-up and pulled Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite from the
top shelf, put the needle carefully in place, and then drifted off to sleep. Sugar
plum faeries waited patiently for him. Twilight would call soon enough.
