Iron Butterfly
They all counted me out, but they don’t know me. “From hot to not,” they said. An emaciated twenty-something bitch actually stepped on my foot in the dressing room. She looked at me and decided I wasn’t worth a sorry. I bit my tongue but I remembered her face. I was once like her; before the rise and fall. God bless America. It loves resurrection. I passed her on my way to the set and this time she recognized me. She congratulated me on my return to the big screen and my award. “Yeah,” I said. “Kiss my ass.”
