I ran an event recently in a rather nice training centre in London. Ours was just one of many events taking place, and the coffee-area melting pot of folks from widely different backgrounds made for some interesting conversations.And, needless to say, I corrupted the idea.
What of the girl in the corner, sitting nervously outside the room signed “Film Casting”?
What of the unmistakable noise – of a girl inside being caned?
And later, when we emerged to eat our sandwich lunch. The same girl we’d seen earlier: now tear-stained, fragile, curled up gingerly on a cushion on the armchair. The door opening once more, a gentleman appearing. “You’ve passed the first stage of the audition. Now come back inside for part two.”
Glancing through the door, as they pulled it to behind her. Three men, in smart suits.
And, moments later, her pleas clearly audible. A slap, resonating through the building. And then, plain for all to hear, the sounds of a girl sobbing as she was thoroughly and repeatedly used…