Suddenly he stops. His face turns white and I catch myself sneaking peeks.
"Damn it!" He stands trembling with anger, his chest heaving in a rapid and strained rhythm. Frowning this time, he stalks back to the car in a rage and crouches in front of the bumper. He literally crawls in with his nose and I look after him in horror.
"What's going on?" There's something wrong. A touch of incomprehension and disapproval shows on my face, because I find the whole thing exaggerated. Is this starting again? I'll refrain from my bitter cynicism and better follow him a few steps. Let's see what he's come up with now.
"That's not possible!" he rages. Then he jumps out of his skin and bangs his fist against his body. "Just look. This looks like damage from a shopping basket, right at the height of th
