When you think of timeless beauties, who do you think of?
Helen of Troy? It’s true, her beauty could sink a thousand ships. Cleopatra? A deadly beauty, to be sure. Okay, who else:
Grace Kelly. Marilyn Monroe. Audrey Hepburn. Sure. They weren’t responsible for that many deaths. But I guess that’s not a prerequisite to be named a timeless beauty. Regardless, do you know what all these women have in common?
They’re all dead.
All these women will forever be remembered for their grace and beauty. But what good does it do them while they rest in their final repose?
I prefer to keep my youth forever, if I can. Forever is a long time, and there’s no guarantee. But I can tell you that I supped beside Helen, and I would have only sent a few hundred ships after her.
To have lived this long is a gift. Or a curse. I suppose it depends on what you do with that time. I, for one, have spent it learning dozens of languages (including Pig Latin), meeting many of history’s most fascinating people, and collecting items at the height of fashion and across the centuries. When I tire of my self or my name, I simply change them.
Best of all, my body has never creaked nor groaned as I pulled myself out of bed and away from the still-warm bodies that brought me such pleasure the night before. The skin around my eyes and mouth does not wrinkle, nor have spots ever appeared to blemish the creamy white of my hands. My appetites are as ravenous as they were a millennia ago. My speed is as fast, my wits as sharp, and my emotions as quickly untempered.
There is no downside to being young forever, should you have someone to share your travels and travails.
Do you care to join me? I need only that you nod your head and tilt it to the left.