Was it possible to feel nostalgic about something that had never happened to him, possible for nostalgia to be taken in by the body as a free pathogen to infect the consciousness with stray sentiments? Perhaps, in his dreams, he had traveled back in time, or even drifted into another dimension of space-time and inhabited the body, experiences, and nostalgia of another. To even envisage so allowed the trauma of those lost moments, though not his own, to draw from him a certain envy for the entity in whose memories he had basked vicariously. . .Perhaps, nostalgia was a microorganism. . .the bacterium that infected. . . Yes. . .maybe he was sick.
Coming from where we do, it__ a rough adjustment__iving here._ He put a hesitant hand on her shoulder, his calluses scratching against the fabric of her dress. __t__ true what they say about life in the dark ages, you know: nasty, brutish, and short. You and I once took it for granted we would die as old people in our beds, but we have no such assurance now. I__l help you how I can, Isabella; but I can__ guarantee that either of us will live even to see tomorrow. Life is worth fighting for, young lady. But don__ feel it is something you__e owed.
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Coming from where we do, it__ a rough adjustment__iving here._ He put a hesitant hand on her shoulder, his calluses scratching against the fabric of her dress. __t__ true what they say about life in the dark ages, you know: nasty, brutish, and short. You and I once took it for granted we would die as old people in our beds, but we have no such assurance now. I__l help you how I can, Isabella; but I can__ guarantee that either of us will live even to see tomorrow. Life is worth fighting for, young lady. But don__ feel it is something you__e owed.
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