Brussels, Belgium
“Je vais te tuer!“ I couldn’t hear much of what was being said in the street four stories below us, but I heard that loud and clear. The woman hustled up the street–hurriedly making a call on her cell phone–away from the man who’d uttered those words, and away from the Mercedes S-class she’d just smashed up. She hadn’t been able to shatter the windshield, as much as she’d tried. All in all, the guy seemed to handle it pretty…
