“You might say that death has relaxed me.”

“Of course, if I eat all of him, if I spare his brain, he'll rise up and follow me back to the airport, and that might make feel better. I'll introduce him to everyone, and maybe we'll stand around and groan for a while. It's hard to say what 'friends' are any more, but that might be close.”

“Everything you see, you might be seeing for the last time.”

“Don't know why you... say good-bye. I say... hello.”

“Humanity’s debut novel you could say. Love, sex, blood, and tears. A journey to find eternal life. To escape death. It was written over four thousand years ago on clay tablets by people who tilled the mud and rarely lived past forty. It’s survived countless wars, disasters, and plagues, and continues to fascinate to this day, because here I am, in the midst of modern ruin, reading it.”

“I like how you remember things,’ I say. She looks at me. ‘Well, we have to. We have to remember everything. If we don’t, by the time we grow up it’ll be gone for ever.”

“Came to . . . see you.”“But I had to go home, remember? You were supposed to say good-bye.”“Don't know why you . . . say good-bye. I say . . . hello.”Her lip quivers between reactions, but she ends up with a reluctant smile. “God you're a cheeseball. But seriously, R—”