Memento Mori

Latin for “remember death.”

The reminder that nothing is forever and everyone is born with the guillotine raised above their heads.

Currently, this Medieval Latin Christian Theory and practice of reflecting upon one’s morality has as much spotlight as Ray J.

Perriwinkle thought about getting a memento mori tattoo when he was a disgruntled teen but he didn’t have a fat enough Spencer’s gift card.

Currently, he was kneeling on the frigid concrete in front of the place he was trying to get to all day.

The Funeral Home.

He gazed at the sign as time continued to slither forward.

Eventually, the front door creaked open to reveal an elderly woman wearing a Hollywood Hogan bandana.

“Hello?” she asked in a gruff baritone.

Perriwinkle shuffled to his feet. “Hello m-madam. Sorry I was just-” he fumbled betwixt his lips.

The octogenarian Hulkamaniac flopped her arms to show an air of nonchalance.

“Get inside. We’ve been waiting for you,” she said to Perriwinkle.

He followed her inside and was shocked to discover that The Funeral Home was in fact a bar. Perriwinkle watched the patrons chat over their drinks and then something really odd happened.

The lights began to flicker as the people in the bar morphed into disgusting exhibits of flesh and tentacles.

Weird tentacle people

Once the flickering subsided, everyone in the bar returned to their normal form.

“Um, what was that about?” Perriwinkle asked the old lady.

“Nothing. Have a seat,” she instructed him.

He did as he was told while she walked behind the bar, filled a pint, and slammed it in front of him.

mug of beer


Perriwinkle took a sip.

“So are you the one who’s been calling me?” he asked the weathered bartender.

“No…I…am,” said a mysterious voice to his left.

He turned to see an old woman with long white hair and black shades covering her square face.

old lady with sunglasses

“You said my mother was dead earlier today.” Perriwinkle was blunt.

“Do…y.ou..rem..ember..your mo…ther?”

Perriwinkle pondered the question.

“No. I actually can’t remember anything from my childhood. Why?”


“Who is he?” Perriwinkle leaned in closer.

faded doggledoo

The woman turned away her bar stool and stood up.


He did as he was told.

While moving through the bar, he noticed everyone staring at him.

“He…sees…all,” the woman said while shuffling throughout the room.

She stopped in front of a door and reached into the brown purse slung over her shoulder.

“He…hear…ss….all.” She retrieved a key from the purse and opened the door like a sloth on horse tranquilizers.

drugged up sloth

They walked down another hallway until they reached the double red doors. The woman stared into his soul behind her sunglasses.


Perriwinkle gulped flamboyantly.

“I don’t usually gulp like that, why did I do it just now?” he thought to himself.

He instantly forgot about that thought.

“See…what…I…mean?” the old lady smiled cunningly.

“What are you talking about?” Perriwinkle began feeling dizzy.

“Pre….cise….lee,” she chuckled to herself.

She pushed the double red doors and they moved into the next room.

It had some couches in it.


“Do you know where my mother is?” Perriwinkle asked.

“No,” she replied.

“But why would you say that to me on the phone?” Perriwinkle was getting frustrated.

“Only….way,” she managed to get out.

“What?!” he screeched.


She sat down on one of the many couches inside the room and pressed a button on the side of the arm rest.

An LG – 75″ Class – LED – UK6190 Series – 2160p – Smart – 4K UHD TV with HDR rose from the floor between them.

Promo Code for Lg TV

The TV’s screen flashed on to display white noise.

“Watch,” the lady instructed him.

Perriwinkle looked at the screen and stupidly watched the white noise flicker across the screen. He continued to stand and intensely watch the screen for a few minutes.

white noise man

He then turned to the old lady.

“Do…you….get….it?” she asked him.

“I think I do,” he replied grimly.

Perriwinkle left The Funeral Home and returned to his home.

Later that night he died.