The street looks like a combat zone. Aside from the cars and cycles all over the place, and the various tow trucks, meat trucks, fire trucks, and cop-mobiles, there are three buildings with smashed-out windows and one smaller structure, a simsense parlor, that’s now missing most of its second floor, said floor having fallen into the pile of crud spreading halfway across the street. Bodies are everywhere, sprawled in the gutters, hanging out of burnt, turned-over cars, lying beneath various chunks of rumble.