Imagine a woman living in a third world country, 100, maybe 150 years ago.
Mired in a life of poverty, she never left her country, let alone her small rural village.
She dreamed of seeing the wonders of the world beyond her village, and specifically of moving to America, where she heard that the streets are paved with gold and money grows on trees.
Like so many millions of people around the world, when she died, she was quickly forgotten.
Before long, her skull was extricated from the makeshift graveyard and sold to a dealer, who sold it to another dealer in the United States.
Ironically, only long after her death does she realize her dream of traveling to America.
Eventually, her skull is purchased by a photographer. He names her "Charlie", and decides to make her the subject of his next project.
Forgive me, John Steinbeck.
