you never can tell.

There is a half-burned husk of a car (an SUV, actually) on our street, one block down. Nat discovered it yesterday afternoon on his way home from school.

The engine must have exploded: the hood flew up, and buckled in the middle. The windows are all blown out (glittering on the pavement, now), every door is permanently ajar, and the steering wheel has become a blackened, bony metal ring– anything rubber or plastic has melted right off, down to the floor of the car. The smell is noxious, corrosive. All the pretty white paint has been burned off the metal frame, and even the street sign right above has one corner melted upward from (presumably) the heat. Small piles of chemical-laden sooty stuff lay hither and thither. A large, empty gas can lays on its side, discarded on the grassy strip between street and sidewalk. Was this what was used to set the fire? Why? And who did it? Jealous lover? Crazy druggie? Straight-laced Navy guy who just finally hit the roof?

Moreover, why in the hell is this scene just sitting there, waiting for idiots like us to trample around it and destroy all (if any) of the evidence?! Shouldn't the gas can be dusted for prints, and samples collected? i say.

In any case, if it is still there tomorrow, i might take my camera over and play detective. i only got to see it in darkness, so i'm looking forward to more gritty details.

::shivering with excitement::

...Don't worry, i'll wear booties and a hairnet. Wouldn't want to incriminate myself.