At the hardware store, when a chain is cut to length, each cut leaves one link behind as waste. I buy my chain there, notice a box filled with leftovers, find them strangely appealing, and pick the severed links up from the floor. As I leave, the door opens: the store detective has been watching me on camera. I empty all the links onto his desk. He checks whether, among them, there might actually be five centimetres of stolen chain hidden somewhere. Not this time.