The train rushes by. The images in the passing windows are like fleeting frames of film. Lives frozen for a second in time, then gone.
The role of The Kid should have gone to me, not Jackie Coogan. But I'm a girl and Chaplin wanted a boy. I didn't make it into any of the Our Gang shorts either. The dog didn't like me. It nipped my elbows during the audition and peed on my ankle. In 1925, I was hired for a major production starring Lon Chaney, called The Monster. All my scenes ended up being cut, though. The other actors accused me of upstaging and scene hogging. The ungenerous nature of adults.
Let me help you. Though in the interest of full disclosure, I must tell you that my previous attempts to help escapees failed miserably. Two sank in a mud bog, one was accidentally shot by a twelve-year old, and the other was mistakenly garroted with a piece of twine. But my heart is in the right place.