A boy in his early-to-mid teens – baseball cap and tracksuit, leading his small gang of laughing, larking kiddlings – took careful aim at the living statue on Market Street in Manchester. With his aim he directed an unusually affected middle finger of almost balletic poise displaying care and delicacy. His face held a calm expression as if to say I am a genius and this displays a level of skill you are lucky to be witness to. His smile was cool and relaxed, yet his way of presenting his middle finger was contorted yet effortless, like the twisted feet of a meditator in the lotus position.
I regaled my partner with this story and her assumption was that the kid was drugged up; I think otherwise. His self-assured cockiness had attained a zen-like zenith; so at one with his own assumed awesomeness that acts like giving the finger to a living-statue busker just flow out of him effortlessly. My partner also thought the story would end with me telling her that the statue got down off his pedestal and battered the kid with his marble arms. Thankfully this didn't happen. I can only assume he gets plenty of casual abuse daily and takes it all in his sculpted stride.
I've decided to immortalise the event in a beautiful reproduced scene lovingly created using MS Paint, a threadbare mouse, and my shaking hungover hand. The results, I'm sure you will agree, are stunning.