Dead Corpses

Two shots from close range, in quick succession, like in an American movie. She was lying under a street lamp and blood spurted out of her body like a musical fountain. He kept shooting, three bullets per second, a ballet of bullets, until the magazine was empty and his gun clicked. The night was so warm that the air vibrated. On the other side of town a burst of flame shot up between parked cars and with a tremendous bang Miss Belgium's Fiat exploded into a thousand burning pieces. In the judicial police room the detectives put on bulletproof vests. The table was full of revolvers and pistols. 'I feel naked without my gun,' said Sofie Simoens. The new detective wore tight jeans and snakeskin cowboy boots.