A remembrance of loss

“He would have wept if he could have, watching the young couple enjoy their meal. He had forgotten so much after more than two thousand years. He had forgotten the embrace of the warm sun on his skin, he had forgotten the softness of his wife’s lips pressed against his own; and in the intervening centuries of the sharp, metallic splash of blood across his tongue he realized with a pang that he had forgotten the taste of spring wine. Yes, if he could have wept, he would have done so for days upon end… such loss. “

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