The noise in the living room stabbed my eardrums like needles.
I knelt on the ground, holding the basin of steaming foot-washing water in my hand. Through the thin fabric of my trousers, I could feel the coldness of the floor tiles on my knees. Yesterday's news was being replayed on the TV - a mysterious "anonymous person" took down the largest gang stronghold in Kosovo in one fell swoop. Fifteen corpses lay scattered in the warehouse. The scene was as tragic as a slaughterhouse.
