Memento Mori
for the graveyard lovers
Robin held out the chunk of grey speckled stone on her open palm. One side was jagged and the other smooth. A faint scrub of moss clung to its rough edges.
Grady’s mouth hung open.
“Please don’t tell me what that is.”
“Ok. I won’t.”
She turned it over in the light. The shallow imprint of something man made came into view— maybe the bar of an ornate letter…
