A smiling opportunity.

The teapot had been singing for nearly a minute before Henry took it off the heat. He poured the steaming water over the honey lemon tea bag sitting at the bottom of his plastic mug and took a sip. The water burned his tongue; he cringed.

He strolled from the cramped kitchen into the living room, where he gazed out his sliding doors onto the streets below. It was raining again. Henry turned and walked around his meager apartment, looking for something to do. He had no TV. He had no computer. He had no friends. His only entertainment was the seven books he kept on his bedside table and a set of crossword puzzles. Henry kept himself busy most days, dreaming up Dorothy's next adventure or observing people from his teeny balcony. But it was days like today when Henry wished he had some purpose in his life.

Henry sipped his tea cautiously, not wanting to scald his tongue any more, contemplating what to do.

Then he decided, quite abruptly, to go to the grocery store. Maybe he'd find something interesting. He made a list of items – Henry never went to the grocery without a list – and put on his bright yellow raincoat and golashes. Then he headed out.

Inside the grocery story, he began to make his rehearsed rounds – from the produce section through the aisles, and then over to the dairy section. There, he saw quite a sight.

First, he saw a man bending over the milk cartons, his butt crack peeping over the edge of his pants. Henry's eyes drifted to the rather large woman standing next to him. She was dressed in a hideous white dress with pink and green hearts and was quite agitated, it seemed, with the man. "How could I ever have thought we were meant to be if you go off with your dime store floozys? I am a real woman..." Henry walked away. He didn't much care about her problems.

After paying for his groceries, Henry headed back towards Washington Heights. The clouds were threatening rain again. All of a sudden, Henry heard a sound. It was a song, getting closer and closer until it seemed to be right behind his shoulder. He looked onto the road just in time to see a little ice cream truck pass by. He was amazed – he hadn't seen one of those since he was a kid. And what in the world was an ice cream truck doing driving around Baltimore in the fall? There was some strange stuff going on in this place, Henry thought. The more he saw of it, the more he wanted to get out.

Then he saw the lady. She looked like a business lady, dressed up in a nice black skirt suit. She wore makeup and pumps and pantyhose and was standing in the middle of a sidewalk in Washington Heights. As Henry approached her, she approached him. She was holding a small stack of pamphlets and wore a peppy grin. "Hello!" She stuck out her hand. "I'm Lauren Flinn, from the Baltimore School of Fashion and Design. Here's a brochure –" she held one out for Henry to take – "that outlines our classes. Right now we're offering scholarships to anyone who agrees to attend full time for two years..." The woman flipped the brochure over in Henry's hands, pointing with her French-manicured nails to the things she was talking about. But Henry had stopped listening. His mind was spinning.

He loved fashion. Dorothy loved fashion. He wanted to leave Washington Heights, and this woman – this gorgeous, sweet, misplaced woman – was offering him a paid education at a fashion school. Henry almost pinched himself to make sure that this was really happening.

"...and classes for the spring semester begin in January." The woman stopped talking and looked up at Henry, smiling. "Can I have your name and phone number to contact you?"

And so Henry gave the woman his name – Henry, of course, not Dorothy – and told her he would really like to be considered for the scholarship. The woman smiled at him, shook his hand, and told him he'd be hearing from her soon. She turned on her heel and walked down the sidewalk.

Just as he reached the apartment building, it began to rain again, but even the bleak weather couldn't bring Henry down from his high. He could go to fashion school! He could become successful and have friends and go to parties! He could find a boyfriend! And the best part about it all was that going to fashion school meant leaving Washington Heights. What a novel thought.

Fire engine red

It had been a great day of shopping. Dorothy was thrilled. Just as she'd been about to give up on Last Resort Thrift Store and go home, she'd seen it – that little bright red number at the bottom of one of the countless bins. Captivated, Dorothy had fished it out and tried it on. It fit perfectly. What luck! It was a fire-engine red, patent faux-leather strapless dress, lined at the top and bottom with a tiger-pattered fabric. The top fit nicely around Dorothy's small, sand-filled, barely A-cup bra (Henry never wanted to look unnatural, because he was a very small man), and the bottom came up mid-thigh. The dress was skin tight, and oh so hot! After admiring herself in the mirror for almost 20 minutes, Dorothy had made her way to the checkout line to purchase her fabulous new find. As she waited patiently behind a rather large woman who seemed to be buying the store's entire supply of undergarments, another item caught her eye. There, behind the cashier on one of the grungy display shelves, sat the best pair of patent white go-go boots Dorothy had ever laid eyes on. The platform heels had to be about three inches high, and the boots looked like they rose almost to the knee. Dorothy asked to see them, tried them on, and – oh! What luck! They fit like a charm. Who knew that the Last Resort Thrift Shop would have such nifty stuff? 

And so Dorothy had bought her dress and her boots. Even though she felt the $15 was a little too much to spend, she knew she'd get her money's worth out of it.

By the time she left the thrift store, it was almost five thirty. Dusk was closing in on the town, and the infrequent but sharp, biting gusts from earlier had been replaced by an all-around dreary coldness. Dorothy was painfully hungry, but as much as she wanted to get back to her apartment and put on that new dress, she needed something to eat. She made her way right down Bucher Drive to Diner Royale, walked in, and took a seat in an unoccupied booth. 

She was greeted by a peppy, "Hello! Can I getcha somethin' to drink?" Dorothy looked up to see a young girl with a big black spot on her upper cheek. The girl was standing there smiling, holding a pen and paper, ready to take Dorothy's order. The name on the name tag read, "Mandi Mac." Dorothy sometimes saw her in the diner, and, oddly enough, every time she saw her, the girl was sporting a different bruise. 

Dorothy ordered a water, a cup of soup, and a garden salad. Since she was, after all, a woman, she wanted to eat something she considered womanly. As she waited on her food to arrive, she looked out the window. She saw a few cars pass, followed by a black van. Moments later, a police car and fire truck shot by the window, lights flashing and sirens blaring. The fire engine made her think of her new red dress, and she became even more excited to wear it. As she continued to gaze out the window, it began sleeting. Dorothy could tell it was sleet – she'd lived up here almost five years now, and sleet was no stranger to Baltimore.  

Mandi Mac brought Dorothy's meal, and Dorothy ate quickly. She'd skipped lunch. When she finished, she paid her $5 bill and left, heading past The Wrath towards Washington Heights. The sleet had stopped, thankfully. As she approached the building's door, she heard a rumble and looked up just in time to see the black van she'd seen back at the Diner ago whizzing down Baker street. 

The sunhat and the coat

It had been several days since Henry had seen the pink umbrella and the lady with the fabulous outfit, and he couldn't get his mind off it. He wanted to get Dorothy a new outfit to wear - something as wonderful as the unforgettable flamboyant costume. There was only one problem: the clothing store wasn't open at night, when Dorothy always appeared. It was only open during the day, and Henry would look like a fool trying to buy women's clothes. He'd faced this dilemma a few times before, and he decided to risk it - Dorothy would emerge during the day.

So Henry got ready to go out. First, he picked out the outfit. Then he carefully did his makeup - eyelashes and all - before carefully adjusting the wig on his head. He dressed himself and made sure the accessories matched everything. Since it was daytime, he added a floppy sunhat and a pair of groovy shades to complete the look. When he finished preparing himself, he looked in the mirror. He knew that no one would recognize the relationship between him and Dorothy, who today donned a calf-length autumn orange skirt, a brown blouse and a brown sweater, brown pumps, and a matching orange, brown and green headband.

On her way out the door, Dorothy grabbed an off-white scarf to tie around her neck. As soon as she walked outside, though, she wished she'd worn a coat. She was greeted by a sharp gust of wind that nearly picked her up off of the ground. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the wind stopped, and all was calm. Dorothy turned and headed down the street towards the clothing shop. As she walked brisquely, placing one foot in front of the other, another gust of wind came up behind her and blew her sunhat right off the top of her head. It tumbled down the sidewalk towards the bus stop.

Dorothy took off running after her hat. She ran in a ladylike fashion, keeping her strides short and placing a hand on her chest as she ran. She approached the bus stop, where the hat had come to rest, and saw a man sitting there. He had a stack of newspapers and a little cup next to him. As she bent to pick up her hat, the man said, "Would you like a paper for a nickel?" Normally, Dorothy didn't randomly buy things from people on the street. But something about the man's appearance made her feel sorry for him, and she felt inclined to oblige him. Opening her clutch, she fished out a dime - she had no nickels - and placed it in his cup. "Keep the paper," she said, in a perfectly feminine voice. Then, sunhat in hand, she turned and walked away.

As she approached the clothing store, she couldn't help thinking about the man she'd just encountered. "I should have brought him shopping with me," she thought. "He needed a new coat. The one he had on was just too big!"