The little red-haired girl's bike, that is.
Ridden with such pride and joy to and from school, horse-riding practise, around town and just recently on holiday, her new bike disappeared sometime between 1500 Wednesday afternoon and 0720 Thursday morning.
At least that's what I wrote on the police report before sending it off to the insurance company. A ?50 cable lock lay where her bike should have been, sliced through with bolt-cutters. A neighbour's was also ripped off, their lock lying on the cobblestones right beside ours.
I suppose with bicycle thieves no longer in it for the joy-riding, her bike is already packed in some truck somewhere on its way to a fence in eastern Europe or Russia, where it will be sold off as brand new in some town or other. Since there's a chance it might turn up on eBay I'll be checking there, though I doubt they'd be that stupid.
Just like habitual liars and sociopaths, thieves have no empathy. If they have any feelings at all for the harm they do other people, it's scorn. That's why it's pointless to get angry at people like that when they do you wrong.
Still, I'd like to be able to print onto paper the image I have in my mind of my daughter's tear-filled eyes that morning as she held up the sliced-through lock, then find the thief and shove the paper, the lock and the bike down his throat.
Slowly, with a reverse twisting motion.
Didn't I mention stress and entertain revenge fantasies in my previous post? It's turning out to be a great week.
Original source: http://lettershometoyou.wordpress.com/?p=922
