The Actress


There was a time she enjoyed the challenge—the chase—of something on the horizon. Her career had been defined by adapting to diverse roles, but her latest audition had stirred in her, like the pills and drinks she had swallowed, a cocktail equal parts determination and defeat. The sun was setting on her storied career. The thought scratched and gnawed at her. Roles that could have been written for her, were filled by fresher faces and slimmer waists. It felt as if something or someone were consuming her, and it made her stomach churn. She imagined the woman who fed on her life’s work—like an animal ripping the entrails from another in its final moments—she could see her, swaying with crimson-stained hands that carved an impossible-to-sustain frame. An image of taunt and torment. In the mirror, she could see her; and it looked just like her.

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