I felt the days go by like eternities. not that they took long in the living, or that they dragged behind, but that our time of departure seemed eons gone.
I remember thinking of her, trying to comfort her—failing in both. Perhaps the conflict we know in one life is ended in the termination of another?
I do not regret those moments, centuries ago. They seem like distant dreams of innocence, or purity, a lack of judgment. One day we will see them for what they Were—an Eden prior to the fall of man.
Perhaps, tomorrow or the years ahead, I might catch your reflection in the shifting glass of a shop window, or an old man’s mirror, and you will turn to me and smile, and dream of that which could have been, but never was.