As Tor Khan drove home, his hands kept trembling.
The steering wheel slipped in his sweat-soaked palms, the wheels rolling over the broken asphalt made irregular noises, echoing his chaotic heartbeat.
Every detail of the coup looped through his mind, like a nightmare, making his heart race.
Barzani's cold eyes, Rashid's cruel smile as he described the ambush plan, and the crisp clinks of the four whiskey glasses now seemed like the toll of a funeral bell upon recollection.
Each scene made his stomach twitch, the bitterness of bile rising to his throat.
He rolled down the car window, letting the cold morning air disperse some of the accumulated smoke and sour fear in the car.
He parked the car two blocks from home, turned off the engine, and sat quietly in the car to organize his scattered thoughts.
The night sky over Elbil was unusually clear.
On this night without the cover of war and smoke, stars fell like scattered diamonds on a black velvet sky.
