#225 Sunday Morning at 10am

by Wren Handman

The apartment smells like burnt toast and chocolate cake. Exciting things have happened here. There is a small brown purse, like an old lady might have carried in the Great Depression, and inside of it there are five cents, a stick of black lipstick, and three cotton balls. On the kitchen table are the remnants of tea; one uneaten petit-four sits on a delicate china plate. The TV is on, but no one is watching the celebrity cook make salmon with a cherry glaze. In the entry hall lie six pairs of shoes, and one stiletto heel, in burgundy. A tabby cat scratches at the window. It has a mark like a splash of milk on its nose.

In the kitchen the sink is running, water pouring over an old copy of Maclean’s, opened to an article about job outsourcing. A laughing model on the other page sells a dream. In the bedroom the closet doors are open, and the bed is covered with printed dresses, and knitted blouses in a range of pastel colours. A slim clove cigarette smoulders in an ashtray, almost but not quite dead. The smell of chocolate lingers strongest in the bathroom, where the soft purple bathmat has been rolled up and hidden inside the tub. A champagne glass with one sip left balances on the rim of the sink, stained with Tickle-Me-Pink lipstick. The apartment smells like a stroke in a cake shop. Exciting things have happened here.



Caitlin Myers's greatest ambition is to be a star, and she can outshine anyone at her school. But then Lianne comes to town and starts to give Caitlin a run for her money, even getting top billing in the school play. So when Caitlin's offered a bit role as the bikini girl in a low-budget slasher flick, she ignores the warning bells (and her parents), lies about her age, and takes the part. It's not long before Caitlin finds herself out of her element when it comes to bossy directors and experienced film crews. Her only way out is to fess up about her age, but if she does, she'll have to come clean to her parents, her friends, and her boyfriend about the things she's done.

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