The pull of his homeland, battered and bedeviled as it was, gnawed at him, but his new life, where no roadside bombs or suicidal fanatics lurked, kept his feet firmly planted.

He haunted the mall, hoping someone, anyone, would recognize him, since he was, for God's sake, a pop star, albeit one whose career had ended 20 years ago.

They danced by the light of the flares to the sound of falling bombs.

Paul had entirely given up on making decisions, going so far as to let his dog Snuffy pick out what he wore to work by nosing in his dresser drawers every morning, which led to his often being seen wearing clashing clothes that smelled good to the canine snout, but not so much to the human.

"Mistakes were made," said Farber sharpening his knife with a steady, firm stroke.

They flipped a coin to see whether they would kill or negotiate.

On the day the talk show host finally ran out of questions she died.