The place looks familiar, but it also feels rather strange that he remembers it without actually remembering it. He’s been here before, but can’t figure out why that matters enough to stop him in his tracks.
The groaning, shambling horde has since crossed the bridge, with only two of them tumbling off the edge into the water—the canal; and yet, here he still stands, chewing thoughtfully on a takeaway hand, drawing in a lungful of the now stale air as reminiscence of a surprise proposal trip he took with his girlfriend starts to spark life back into his undead mind.
He chokes on something and now has half the mind to spit it out into his gray palm. The diamond ring looks familiar, too; he wishes he could just forget again.