The Late Night Movie Show

Word Count 307

“Outside the wind kept on whooping and yowling…” screeched the announcer of the late night movie show. My husband Max. What a weary character he is.

The lines on his face have collected the white-caked paste of the cheap make-up that has been mildewing in a beaten down dressing room of an outdated studio. A studio long since forgotten by the new technology that has changed every minute without the consent of an aging board of directors.

The years have not been kind in the entertainment business.

Don’t get me wrong there have been glory days. A nightlife compared to no other industry. I remember being the jewel on my husband’s arm as role after role was thrown at him. In the midst of the booze and canned laughter, he shirked the roles in the name of being a true “ar-teest”.

Now I stand in the shadows with my little white gloves I still carry as a gesture of high society.

The gloves have lost their luster however. The seams have been frayed and stained with that God awful cheap makeup that is so oily to the touch but so dry on the face. I never could get the consistency to meet Max’s approval. Max was a twisted perfectionist. The application of his make-up was a constant nuisance. A chore that has driven me crazy over the years. I have since learned to work with the best and worst of the “glamour cakes”, but my canvas is cracked beyond repair.

Yes, the nights were once filled with the hope of a bright new day.

Unbeknownst to Max and I, it was the days that aged us. The days praying the phone would ring to invite us to one last mixer to seal his name on the list, the list that would keep us from this. The late night movie show.