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.”
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.