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See you across the abyss

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Some things hit harder when you're too late. Virgil had tried his best to avoid his family, so the news of his grandfather's passing came arrived in a delay. He felt irate when he saw the urn standing on his grandfather's altar in the middle of the living room, like some prompt. His family always found ways to disrespect his traditions, scorning any connection they had to the esoteric.

Virgil would've at least appreciated spending some time with his grandad, Andrés, before they burned him to ash. What was with their fear of the dead? People used to be more comfortable around corpses. In his grandfather's tradition, they sat with the dead for a week, guiding them toward their next reincarnation. But even that faded, just like the old ways, with Virgil being the last one Andrés had taught anything.

There was no point in lingering, mingling with his mourning family. To him, there was nothing to mourn. He felt no sadness, but peace, knowing death wasn't the end - it was all part of the play of life. He walked over to the urn, tapped ten times on the altar, and vibrated a few words.

After gathering some of Andrés' books and artifacts, Virgil stepped outside to his black Impala. That's when it hit him; he had no family left, except for Johnnie and maybe a few kids from random groupies. What a life. He lit a cigarette and hopped into the driver's seat.
There was no time to waste. It was at least a six-hour drive back to L.A. from Prescott, Arizona. He kicked the pedal and headed west, but he didn't get far - something was wrong with the engine. Virgil had no idea that in his absence, Jo switched the engine and put a supercharged V8 turbo engine. The car was toast.

"Johnnie, for fuck's sake..."

🜏

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