Death and an Essay by Randon Billings Noble

I awoke at three this morning to utter silence in my neighborhood as what I imagined must only have been the eye of Hurricane Sandy drifted over my house.  The rain had stopped. The wind was barely a breeze, and I could see the full moon between gaps in the clouds. I lit a candle and sat down to read. By six there was enough light to clear some branches from my driveway. Outside in the now drizzling morning, I looked over my head at the huge oak across the street; I was ready to run at the slightest sound of creaking, groaning, cracking--whatever warning I might have before a limb (or more) comes falling toward me. I gathered branches with that understanding of what I was risking. I didn't really need to gather those branches then, but it comforted me to clear a path for my car--whenever I would need it. Why am I telling you this? Because I couldn't put words to my feelings until I read this essay by Randon Billings Noble. She captures what I was feeling so much more eloquently, and with so much more depth and complexity, that my words above still pretty much sound like some kind of extended belch. I also appreciate the risks taken by her essay, "Memento Mori." When I finished it, I literally said, "Wait. What? Really? Woah." It's about the DC Snipers. It's about being a better person. It's also about some monks, a crypt, a short story by Flannery O'Connor, and shopping for placemats. And, it's about death.  It's in the fall issue of propellermag.com. I highly recommend it.