[ WP ] An immortal meets another immortal for the first time

I knew something was different the second I saw him. He wore a wrinkled suit but his hair was perfect, pressed flat with a mountain of gel. He looked like he was in the wrong decade, but not in that self-aware hipster way. He has just stepped out of a time machine. No, that's not right; he has just been at a costume party. Wrong again... and then it came to me. 
 
 He's like me. 
 
 I paused for a moment, frozen in place. No. It ca n't be. No one is like me; I'm alone in this world. No one understands my pain. 
 
 But then he came closer, and it became even more apparent. His skin is flawless. He walks slowly, never in a rush. His eyes are wandering, taking everything in. 
 
 He is not locked on the future, like the rest of them. 
 
 And that's when I caught his eye. He looked at me, and I knew it; he was n't going anywhere. We were two of a kind, the infinite men of the Earth. He stopped walking, choosing only to stare at me. 
 
 In my mind, I made him a story. He had earned his destiny from a... a bear! He fought a bear, saving the life of a mere man who granted him the ability. No, that's too convenient; He was in an experiment that went awry, and he gained the ability to regenerate his cells! 
 
 No, of course not. 
 
 This had never happened to me before. My stories always worked; maybe a try or two and I had the tales of everyone around me filed away. But he had no story. His story was my story. 
 
 I then had to leave. No, I did n't have anywhere to go, but I needed to be away from him. We realized it at the exact same moment. I turned first; I assume he walked away too, but I did n't look back to check. Maybe he did n't walk away though. Maybe he ran after me, but could n't catch up. Maybe he stood there on the sidewalk and thought. Maybe he slumped to his knees and cried the tears of the ancient world. 
 
 But I do n't know the answer. I ca n't know what happened to him. To write his story is to write my own. And to write my own story is to die. Even an immortal fears death.
