YOUR SUPPLEMENTS WILL NOT SAVE YOU

memento mori from a broken-open deathworker

Last night I watched a man die.

You might think this was because I am a deathworker, but he was simply a man eating on the outdoor patio of an Italian restaurant on a beautiful evening.

I won’t go into the details (they are not important and honestly, too traumatic for me to share right now), but I keep thinking about what his wife said to me. I was bei…