Sometimes you see something and it makes everything alright. You see it and you can imagine peace in the Middle East, no more murders, no more racism. Everyone in the world at one with each other. A picture of tranquillity that fills the heart with joy and dreamy hope. These images are few and far between, usually stopping like deer in a set of headlights, only to gallop gracefully off into the misty forest of memory.
I present you with one such image:
This unnamed man slid an entire Venetian blind onto his spine and popped the hood of his jacket over it, as if to protect it. He shoplifted the sun blocker from a Dunelm Mill store in Nene Valley Retail Park, Northampton, at around 2 PM on Sunday. The blind also went through one of his trouser legs, such was its length (7 ft, to be precise), acting as a kind of makeshift full body brace. Staff caught on to his ruse (somehow) and followed him out of the shop, where he abandoned the blind near a canal.
The situation calls for many questions to be asked, which include, but are certainly not limited to: How strong was this man's desire for a Venetian blind that he needed to shoplift one? Was the blind for him or perhaps a friend or relative? Maybe it was their birthday, or they were on their deathbed and their desire was to, just this once, have a Venetian blind? If you're going to nick a 7 ft blind, wouldn't you just run outside with it instead of going through the rigmarole of putting it in your clothes, stressing out in the knowledge that you have not done a good job whatsoever of hiding your crime?
Plus: where did the stuffing of the blind into his tracksuit take place? Did he take the blinds to the toilet? Did no one see him do that? How was he bending his knee to walk if he had the blind down his leg? What's he thinking when he's looking in the mirror in the elevator? Is there a hint of regret in his eyes? Or, as I like to believe, is he thinking, 'You've done it again, you god damn genius!'