Maxine
“Maxine entrusts the package to one of the urology secretaries but she’s seen the poster of the peeing boys and now she needs the bathroom. Down the hall, the secretary has said, on the left. She follows the pale grey corridor and turns.There’s water running behind a closed door, so she sits on the chair nearby.Two thingsMaxine’s never had any trouble with are peeing or sleeping. She can do either, pretty much on demand. Sleep is something she escapes into, something she adores without ever being able to appreciate it while it’s happening. You can relish the knowledge of its imminence. She could quite happily have her PJs on by seven-thirty most nights but that’s a road Maxine won’t travel unless she’s sick. That way lies eating out of cans in front of the TV, talking to yourself all the time, and owning more than two cats. She already talks to herself but pretends to be addressing Bluebird. She can see through an open door into the staff room. A counter, a kitchen table, the smell of toast.
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