She ignored her and kept walking. Her mother's screaming only dimmed after a couple of blocks of walking.
May’s mother knew of her “employment” and resented it, as she was stuck to a job of hanging on to a balding middle-age fat man named Jim, to supply her with money and cheap dollar-fifty beer. They hadn’t always lived like this but a couple of wrong turns and misled directions on the road of life and they ended up living on the outskirts of Harlem. They probably would live in Harlem if it wasn’t for May’s “job”.
She walked to the nearest Dunkin Donuts, standing in the doorway for a moment, trying to get used to the bright interior, so at contrast with the dark and gloomy sky outside. She stood on line, deciding what to but for her breakfast and resolved on a double chocolate donut and a medium coffee. The cashier looked at her a little strangely when she took out a small bundle of to pay, but just as she did with her mother, May ignored him.
She went out, the breeze, cold and bitter cooling her burning coffee. After a couple blocks of walking, she finally reached the bus stop. It was one of the crappy ones, the back of the bench gone, the part that was left covered in graffiti. She chose to stand.
She finished her breakfast and yet the bus was still not there. She waited for a red light, then went to the middle of the street to see if the bus was coming. It wasn't. Out of habit, she checked the time and after realizing she was already two hours late, she came to a conclusion; screw school, she was going to Roger's house.

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