Bullet in the BrainAnders couldn't get to the bank until just before it closed, so of course the line was endless and he found himself stuck behind two women whose loud, stupid conversation got him into trouble. a murderous temper. He was never in a good mood anyway, Anders – a literary critic known for the weary, elegant savagery with which he dispatched almost everything he reviewed. While the line was still doubled around the rope, one of the cashiers stuck a “POSITION CLOSED”. signed at her window and walked to the back of the bank, where she leaned against a desk and began to pass the time with a man who was shuffling papers. The women in front of Anders stopped their conversation and looked at the cashier with hatred. “Oh, that’s nice,” one of them said. She turned to Anders and added, confident in his agreement, “one of those little human touches that keep us coming back for more.” Anders had conceived his own immense hatred towards the cashier, but he immediately turned it against the presumptuous crybaby in front of him. of him. “It’s really unfair,” he said. “Tragic, really. If they don't cut off the wrong leg or bomb your ancestral village, they close their positions. » She held on. “I didn’t say it was tragic,” she said. “I just think it’s a pretty lousy way to treat your customers.” “Unforgivable,” Anders said. “Heaven will take note.” She pinched her cheeks but looked past him and said nothing. Anders saw that the other woman, his friend, was looking in the same direction. And then the tellers stopped what they were doing, and the customers slowly turned around, and the bank fell silent. Two men in black ski masks and blue suits stood to the side of the door. One of them had a pistol pressed against the guard's neck. The guard's eyes were closed and his lips moved. The other man had a sawed-off shotgun. “Shut your big mouth!” » said the man with the gun, even though no one had said a word. “One of you cashiers sounds the alarm, you’re all dead meat.” Understood ? » The cashiers nodded. “Oh, well done,” Anders said. “Dead meat.” He turned to the woman in front of him. “Great scenario, huh? The severe and deafening poetry of the dangerous classes. » She looked at him with gloomy eyes...