After the cure for death was discovered, he started sleeping in the graveyard. He climbed into bed at home, and stared at the ceiling hours until the first rays of light came creeping in his window.
Then he would rise, and go for a walk to clear his head, but his feet always took him to the boneyard, and next thing he knew, a hand would be on his shoulder, shaking him awake.
Hardly anyone else went there anymore. Everyone had forgotten the dead, but he couldn't forget.
Humanity had learned how to live forever a week after her funeral.
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Everyday DrabblesShort Story
A drabble is a very short story one hundred words long. No more, no less. They are designed for maximum impact in the least amount of space. For 2019, I'll be posting a drabble every day.