What follows is the first short story I have published. If I'm known for anything so far, it's philosophical essays. This piece is decidedly not that. Genre-wise this is a horror story, and I want to give you readers a heads-up that if that's not "up your alley", feel free to skip this one. My goal at present is to put out at least one piece of short fiction a month. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading, as always.
My name is Michael and I’m going to die.
Sorry, it’s not as dramatic as all that. We all are. I don’t mean I’m going to die soon (I don’t think), and I’m not narrating to you from beyond the grave. Right now I’m alive, and I plan to stay that way. But I think about death as often as possible, because that’s the way to live most fully. I’m a Stoic. And that’s what we do. It’s called Memento Mori. That’s Latin for “remember you must die”.
Confession time. I used to be scared of everything. But I realized through a lot of study that it was because I was afraid of death. So I got into reading some psychology and they talk about exposure therapy. Like, if you’re scared shitless of spiders, they just put you in a place with lots of spiders until you’re not afraid anymore. It sounded, well, scary. But then I saw the clinical evidence was that it worked and so I figured I could do the same thing with death. This led me to Stoicism.
I’m not a scholar or anything. I can’t read Latin or Greek. I’m also really busy with work and my girlfriend and our two dogs, so I found this author that breaks Stoicism down so it’s easy for busy people. His name is Gavin Christmas, which is kind of a goofy name, but he wouldn’t care about other people’s judgments. That’s part of Stoicism. “Nobody can make you feel anything that you don’t consent to.” One of the old masters said that, or something like it. I can’t remember the quote exactly. But that’s the gist of it.
So, I read all of Gavin’s books. There are three so far, and I thought they were really good, and they helped me understand the principles of Stoicism. Things like emotional management, and some thought experiments where you imagine your loved ones dying so you appreciate them more, and of course, Memento Mori, which helped me be less scared of dying (I don’t worry about it much at all anymore actually).
Gavin also started a company that sells stuff to help you with your Stoic practice. I got a nice-looking brass coin with a skull on it to carry around that says Amor Fati. That means “love your fate”. That’s another famous Stoic phrase. I also got a skull ring, but it fits funny, so I don’t wear it much. And then my favorite thing is an iPhone app that’s called “Memento Mori”. It’s got a skeleton character guy in it that gives you daily Stoic quotes to help your practice and inspire you to live better. I’ve found it really helpful and it’s just $9.99 a month. A friend made some snide comment about Gavin making lots of money off this stuff, but Seneca was rich for part of his life, I think, and he said to use your Stoic philosophy to be content no matter what the circumstances. So even if Gavin is making a mint, he probably isn’t dependent on it, being basically a modern Stoic sage. It doesn’t bother me if he gets rich because he’s helping a lot of people, like yours truly.
My girlfriend, Jen, says that the skeleton guy in the app is cute and started calling him “Maury” because it sounds like Mori. So around the house now we call him Maury (I didn’t wanna protest, even though I think she’s kind of poking fun at me).
A couple weeks ago, Jen came into the living room after finishing her makeup for work.
“What’s the word from Maury today, babe?”
“It’s Marcus Aurelius. It says, ‘Consider how ephemeral and mean all mortal things are.’ I don’t really get it to be honest, J.”
“It means fleeting, and mean is like, shabby. It’s an old definition of ‘mean’.”
Jen was an English Lit major back in school. So that helped with words I didn’t get.
“Oh that makes more sense. Then the task for the day is to remember everything passes away and is a shadow of what the immortal things are.”
“It’s a little bit morbid, Mike.”
“I see what you mean, but you have to think of it like Gavin says in his books, where you think about this stuff so you don’t take everything for granted. Here today, gone tomorrow, ya know? So that way you don’t miss your life by thinking it’s always gonna be here.”
“I get the idea. But even with how cute Maury is, all this death stuff gives me the creeps.”
“Yeah, I mean, maybe it’s more of a guy thing?”
“Could be, babe. Not to sound like a jerk but it’s a little bit like those inspirational Insta quotes that girls look at, but for cerebral dudes.”
“I’m not offended. Plus, I think you called me smart just now. This has thousands of years of philosophy behind it though, so I think it’s more reliable than empowerment quotes. Like, it’s stood the test of time. It’s very practical and realistic. Not head in the clouds stuff.”
“Yeah, it’s head in the dirt. Six feet under.”
I think she was teasing me, but that’s a good place to have your head in order to live well.
“’Keep death before your eyes each day, along with everything that seems terrible— by doing so, you'll never have a base thought nor will you have excessive desire.’ That’s Epictetus, J.”
“Like I said. Kinda morbid. Where’s the room for fun? I’m more for Epicurus, if we’re going with old, dead ‘Epic-‘ guys. He probably would have gone for a glass of wine over a quote from a digital skeleton app.”
“I don’t know about Epicurus really. You can enjoy stuff as a Stoic. You’re just not supposed to get attached to things.”
“I kinda like being attached to stuff. What about the pups? Won’t you be sad when they die?”
“Everything dies, J. It doesn’t make sense to be upset about something so inevitable. That’s what I used to be afraid of until I found the Stoics.”
“Why does it have to make sense? Life doesn’t make sense. Your emotions aren’t about making sense. It’s healthy to be sad when someone dies.”
“Well, now you seem irritated. That definitely doesn’t make sense to me. We’re just talking.”
“Jesus, Mike. You’re like fucking Spock since you got that app.”
“I don’t understand why you’re upset.”
“Well, maybe Seneca can help you figure it out, you dope. Lucky you’re cute. Look, I’m not super mad or anything but I gotta go to work. Love you, babe.”
“Love you too, J.”
***
I had Maury set up to notify me when there was a new quote for the day. It would pop down from the top of the screen with his little skull-face. Maybe ten days ago he started giving me two quotes a day. I figured it was probably an update. I knew I could use all the reminders I could get, so it was just fine with me. First:
"The one who puts the finishing touches on their life each day is never short of time. " -Marcus Aurelius
Then later in the day:
"Begin at once to live, and count each separate day as a separate life." –Seneca
See, these were the types of ideas that Jen was missing when she thought of Stoicism. There’s a lot about death, but it’s so that you can really live. It’s a way out of fear. Most of all I don’t want to be afraid. Anything is possible if you’re not afraid.
***
A week ago, Sammy died. Sammy was our German Shepherd. I came home from work and Jen had gotten off early and was curled up next to his body on the living room floor, sobbing. She looked up at me all red-faced.
She choked out: “Mike…”
“What happened?” I asked.
“I don’t know… I… found him like this… half an hour ago.”
She could barely talk between heaving.
“Okay, well, we need to call the vet or something,” I said.
She cleared up some, looking dazed.
“Don’t you care?”
“Sammy was a good dog, J. But like Epictetus says, ‘I cannot escape death, but at least I can escape the fear of it.’”
“You are acting like a total psycho, babe. He’s our boy.”
“Was.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Can’t you feel anything anymore?”
“Of course I can. I’ll miss him, but death comes for us all. Memento Mori.”
“Fuck all this Stoic crap, Mike. I need you right now.”
“What you need is for me to be strong for us both. If I’m not afraid, I’m strong. You’ll see eventually that this type of thing is just part of life. If anything it will teach us to appreciate Rocky more while he’s with us.”
“Our dogs aren’t some Stoic trinket for you to practice your ‘no fear’ routine on. You sound crazy, babe. Come back to me. Please.”
Her eyes were filled to overflowing as she looked at me. Almost begging. I couldn’t shake the sense that all this emotion was disgusting. She was only hurting herself. Coming to terms with death would help her avoid all this suffering. I decided to get her interested in Stoicism after she calmed down.
***
Four days ago, I think the Maury app updated again because I started getting the notifications four times a day.
"Think of the life you have lived until now as over and, as a dead man, see what’s left as a bonus and live it according to Nature." -Marcus Aurelius
Yes. Every new day is a gift. Jen didn’t get this. She was always taking things for granted. Even after Sammy died, the next few days she just moped. She didn’t pay any more attention to Rocky.
"Life is very short and anxious for those who forget the past, neglect the present, and fear the future." -Seneca
Jen was totally afraid of what was going to happen. Of death. Like I used to be. And so she was neglecting the present.
"You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think." -Marcus Aurelius
I knew that I had to think of death always. That was the only way I could live properly with power. And not be afraid of anything. Then all was possible.
“You are going to die.”
The last quote that popped up during the day didn’t have an author listed. Must have been a bug in the app.
***
Two days ago, Jen came home from a friend’s little house party. I didn’t want to go. No reason to be partying when I could be meditating or doing some contemplation exercises to get my emotions under control. She looked worried. I don’t worry much at all anymore.
“Mike, I have to tell you something.”
She was all-out scared now. I don’t get scared much at all anymore.
“You know Jackie’s friend Kevin? Fuck. I’m just gonna come out and say it. I kissed him at the party.”
I just felt cold.
“Mike? Say something.”
“I understand,” I replied.
“What? Get mad or something. I cheated for Christ’s sake!”
“You let your passions get the better of you. I get it. I used to be like that. Afraid of everything. Grasping at whatever passing pleasure might make me feel better for a moment. I think you’d get a lot out of Stoicism, Jen, if you’d just try it.”
“What if I said I fucked him? Huh, Mike? Blew him in the bathroom? Would you get mad then?”
I didn’t answer.
She sighed. Then a sharp inhale that was half sob.
“I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t do any of that. I’m just hurting so bad. It was a kiss only and he was so sympathetic about Sammy. It won’t happen ever again. I only said all that crap to get a reaction. Why don’t you care?”
“I care, Jen. It’s just that I understand so much now. Like I told you, it’s a really practical philosophy, Stoicism. I’m not tossed around on waves of feeling anymore, like most people are. I forgive you. I know it was just a weak moment. And fear of the future. I don’t really fear anything anymore because I know it all ends in death.”
She whispered: “It’s so morbid.”
She nuzzled up to me on the couch and feel asleep, softly crying.
***
Yesterday the app went really crazy. Every few minutes I was getting a notification. It started with the normal quotes.
"Everything we hear is an opinion, not a fact. Everything we see is a perspective, not the truth." -Marcus Aurelius
Yes. Interpretation is everything. Jen was seeing everything in a way that made her so upset, emotional.
"How does it help, to make troubles heavier by bemoaning them?" –Seneca
She was just piling on the suffering by dwelling on her misfortune instead of accepting it. All things die.
“Death is coming.”
No author.
“You are going to die.”
It felt now like the quotes were coming right from Maury. His little skull-face almost mocking me.
“I am death.”
What?
“Death.”
Who said that? I could hear them now, the quotes.
“I am Death. You will die.”
“Is someone there?” I called.
“It is I. Death.”
Then I heard many voices in a far-off chant. “Death, Death, Death, Death…” On and on. I looked up from my phone and Maury was there in my kitchen. He was no longer “cute”, as Jen always said. He now had bits of rotting flesh hanging from his yellowed bones and his head hung slightly to the left, as if it might fall at any moment. The chant seemed to come from behind him.
“You will die,” he groaned.
“I am not afraid of death,” I replied. But I was afraid. This nightmare creature spawned a knot in the pit of my stomach and shortened my breath. My throat tightened and I gasped.
“Death comes for us all,” he said, moving slowly towards me, pointing an outstretched bony finger.
“I am not afraid,” I lied.
I shut my eyes then, like a coward. The chanting suddenly ceased and when I opened my eyes, Maury was gone.
I knew what I had to do now. I had to end my fear of death for good. This was the way to live fully and with courage and power. I collapsed on the floor in exhaustion.
***
I woke this morning with the feeling of a hangover. It must have had something to do with all the adrenaline from Maury’s visit. But now I was resolved. Jen was staying with a friend after her little transgression, even though I had moved past it. What sense is it to be upset about something like a kiss in the face of our certain deaths?
Rocky was lying on the living room floor next to me. I took the case off the long pillow on the couch and spun it into a thick cord. I wrapped it around the dog’s neck and tightened. He whimpered and struggled in shock. It’s too bad he wasn’t a reasoning creature or he wouldn’t be so scared to die. A dog couldn’t understand what it was to be free from fear of death. But soon I’d know completely, not just in part. He stopped moving.
I dragged his body into the kitchen and haphazardly began to flay with our sharpest knife. I made quick work of it, since I didn’t really know what I was doing. I took down the pots that hung from the small, high cabinet overhanging the bar area and hooked the body there like a side of beef, dripping onto the countertop. Before, I would have been afraid. But now death would always be before my eyes. I would appreciate life now, seeing Rocky there. Death comes for us all. And now I wasn’t afraid anymore.
Jen came home an hour later. She walked in and turned to the kitchen. She let out a terrible scream.
“Oh my God! Mike. Oh my God!”
“’Choose not to be harmed — and you won’t feel harmed. Don’t feel harmed — and you haven’t been.’ Marcus Aurelius”, I said.
She saw the knife in my hand, the blood on my clothes.
“Jesus, Michael... Did you do this?”
She screamed again.
She was a quivering mess of emotion and fear. Having moved beyond this, I was disgusted. It wasn’t much in me to pity her anymore. I had tried to help. And then I realized I had one fear left, that I might become like her again. Full of passions. Illogical. Afraid. And that I might die before I mastered this fear.
I remembered the knife in my hand. Then it went in. Again and again. She screamed and screamed. The screams and cries turned to gurgling and she began to go limp. She was crying and asking “why?”. These sickly emotions. The pointless protests against fate. Death comes for us all. She didn’t need to be so afraid. If she had listened, she could have met her end with more courage and nobility. So much fear.
I dragged her body to the counter and propped her up next to the hanging animal corpse. I knew that I could use all the reminders I could get. I would never be afraid of death again. To be certain of this, I took the knife to her face and began to cut.
I stepped back to look at my work. There on her lifeless forehead was the secret to living well. To life without fear. To all courage and power. The blood-red letters looked back at me:
Memento Mori
Edgar Allen Put. All those years of demonic metal paid off.