Lingering awareness of our own mortality is probably the most punishing consequence of self-awareness. Death is a downer; it’s in the background of our entire lives. It stirs in us melancholy thoughts during our fleeting moments of joy, and it causes sleepless nights, it renders any action or accomplishment pointless.

Human consciousness has risen to the level of neurotic, but it seems natural humans have an obsession with the end of ourselves and all things. No matter what we tell ourselves, no matter what our endeavors and their outcomes, it was all a foregone conclusion.

This collection of short stories confronts the finality of death, the undoing of all that is. Life is just a brief interruption of oblivion.