Darko walks purposefully down Cornmarket street towards the shoe store. He pretends not to see the heavy-set, middle-aged woman dropping her bag as she stumbles out of a shop. He steps around her as she scrambles to retrieve her belongings from the pavement. Catching a glimpse of his filthy shoes, Darko’s resolve to get to the shoe store strengthens and he quickens his pace.
As he reaches the store, Darko sees that the shoes he wanted are still in the window and feels relieved that his upcoming interaction with the shop clerk is likely to be brief. To his dismay, he is immediately greeted by, a young salesgirl with purple hair, heavy makeup and tacky rings on her fingers. He ignores her enthusiastic offer of assistance and gestures towards the shoes on display. Darko can’t help but stare at her tiger-print pants as she struts off to fetch his size. Nevertheless, his mind wanders to the memory of the events that led him to this very moment. He now wished that he had planned his venture into the woods more thoroughly. Had he done so, he would not be in this cage of consumerism replacing his otherwise functional shoes.
With his new purchase in hand, Darko leaves the store and hears a seemingly agitated caw above him. A crow soars into the darkening sky and Darko feels the chill of the evening, zipping his coat up to his chin. He is ready to go home and shut the door behind him, feeling drained from his shopping experience.
