Slick Solutions, Inc.: An Eighties Story, Part Eight

<p>When he got home, Alan checked through the slits in his mailbox. It looked empty. He opened it anyway. It was empty. He continued down the hallway and unlocked the door to their apartment. The chain was hooked. The door wouldn&rsquo;t open. Maybe Melanie was trying to tell him something. She should have been trying to tell him something. In fact, she probably should have just flat out told him plenty. But she had a few quirks of her own. Nobody&rsquo;s perfect. Except Felice. He knocked.</p> <p>Melanie peeked out the crack. She had round explosions of baby powder around her eyes like a raccoon. The baby powder kept leftover mascara from stinging her eyes in the middle of the night. She needed her sleep. She drank tea laced with tryptophan and put in ear plugs and wore a white silk mask that made her look like the Lone Ranger&rsquo;s girlfriend.</p> <p><a href="https://gerardjones.medium.com/slick-solutions-inc-an-eighties-story-part-eight-627dc04c10c9"><strong>Read More</strong></a></p>