Then Abigail began to change. She became jealous. Or maybe tired. She was over 100, though looking not a day older than when we'd met. I was still not...that experienced. Perhaps these human women aged somehow inside? Or maybe they didn't care for sharing. Finally one day Abigail said,"I want to go home." To England? Your people are busy fighting the people here. Some petty nonsense about this or that. You really want to leave?" Yes. I want to see my home."I took her to Virginia. Got her passage. ”Kerry then burst into tears. I wrapped her in my arms and held her while she sobbed. I whispered into her ear. “That's not true, Kerry.” I then gently placed a kiss on her forehead. I cuddled her close to me and stroked her hair.When her tears had mostly dried up, we continued chatting about where life had taken us. I explained that over the years since we had last seen each other, my life had remained much the same. I was still single, a middle-aged man with no family and few outside. More

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