200 Years as a Ghoul. Everyone I Loved Died in the First 12

Two hundred and four years old. He watched Sloan's water for two centuries, buried a wife and daughter with the same shovel, and cannot trust his own memory of either of them anymore. The happiness is real, all of it lives in the years before the war, which is exactly what makes the twelve years after unbearable. It ends where it began, the same coupling, the same gauge check, worse hands.