Why he never went back

Without language, nor lust. I guess you could still call it love.
They played backgammon at the café every evening. A bottle of wine between them – a smile, a wink. Nothing more than that.
One night, a madman shouted “GOD IS GREAT!” and exploded.
As if He needed reminding.
A week later, the man looked at the rebuilt café. He folded his tear-soaked paper, picked through the alleyway, and found a bloody chip.
Most people place stones on tombstones; he placed the chip.
Her husband showed him the way.
He never went back, except in his dreams.
And nightmares.