Mr. Wilson can hardly be unaware that once a writer chooses to youthen or resurrect a word, it lives again.
He nods, time traveling to a point when there were no central lines, no low blood counts, no immunosuppressive drugs. His face youthens momentarily as he bridges back to a point on a timeline that has none of this devastation on it.
... Like if the sun comes out then I come out. ...
... stuff like that. And then you hit freshman physics. Let me blunt. We physicists flunk ...