I have written before about my love of people watching, how I imagine little back stories for people I see in restaurants, how I speculate about how things got to where they are now (like a single shoe in a gutter or half a pair of glasses on a bench) or where our neighbour goes every morning with his daughter (at least we think it is his daughter. See. Speculating again) in one car, but returns later, alone, in another car.
So when I see this graffiti on a fence:
I have to speculate.
Here are my alternative speculative theories regarding it's authorship and intended message.
Thinking his captors have not missed him yet and not realising civilisation and potential rescuers were merely yards away, the mute escapee took his can of red spray paint that he'd carefully concealed for just such an occasion, and started to write 'HELP'. Unfortunately, his captors were fast to realise the handcuffs they were holding no longer had a hand within them and caught him before he could finish scribing his desperate plea. Hope he's okay.
Her passion for abstract art and her strict Renaissance loving parents were not a happy mix, so the rebel in her would sneak out early in the morning to get a quick fix of urban creativity. Sadly on this occasion, her father had slept badly after a heavy curry the night before and taken Rembrandt, their elderly spaniel, for an early stroll. He happened upon her before her she could complete her urban cityscape. I have taken the liberty of anticipating what the finished artwork might have looked like.
It had been a particularly tense match at the bridge club and Geoffry was still confounded how Lionel had pulled that winning rubber out of the bag. He had replayed the match over and over while he sipped his sherry in the bar afterwards and became certain that foul play was afoot. He knew his wife wouldn't want him to make a scene so instead, he made an excuse to pop outside to the car park. Armed with his red biro he located Lionel's car and set to writing "HE CHEATS" on the fence with a large arrow pointing accusingly at his Vauxhall Passat. Geoffry would come back next week and finish his expose just as soon as he had bought another dozen red bics.
You may now vote for your favourite theory ;-)
3 Definitely, I like the idea of a codger doing graffiti with a bic biro!ReplyDelete
They are the worst. Seen it in action in the queue at the post office on pension day.Delete
Now that was imaginative - loved it - mmmm - let me see - I'm plumping for theory two! XReplyDelete
Florence will be so pleased that you recognised her plight :-)Delete