For three days he had felt like he was sleepwalking, going through the motions without really seeing or hearing anything around him. He was lost, and nothing anyone could say was going to change that. He had buried not just his wife, not just his daughter and his son, he had buried his life as well. He'd barely heard the words of condolence offered by those at the hospital. Neither his family nor Danijela's could risk the journey to Vukovar for the funerals, and he'd refused to have those from the hospital accompany him to the grave-site. The truth was he didn't want to share his grief with anyone. So now, with the funerals over, he was back to haunt the place where it had all begun. Standing on the sidewalk in front of the rubble that had once been their apartment building he found himself once more praying for some lone sniper to center him in their sights, to put an end to the pain that was tearing him apart. How many more days would he do this? What did he hope to gain from it? The questions were ones he couldn't answer and might never be able to, but here he was. Only when it became too dark to see did he finally force himself to turn away, knowing as he did that he'd return again at first light.