The smoke of funeral pyres filled the sky like offered incense to the good Lord above. Its ominous glimmer reflected in the eyes of mourners and by-standers.  Amongst them was a young Greek. His eyes dry yet his soul heavy. He stepped forward and cleared his throat.

“Can a man cite it a privilege to speak on behalf of the deceased? It is a grim honor – yet honor nonetheless. To recite, song and rekindle past triumphs… Can we forget dear ole Sprozz who carried the sharpest of tongues. The epitope, society’s ills - his words, legendary. I shall miss you friend.”

Telemachos lights the wood stacked below his friends body, ransacked from the morgue.

“May flickering of your last flame, be as monument of the fire you stirred in the hearts of friend and foe.”

Telemachos slowly walks away remembering his deceased friend. His pace quickens are police sirens are heard in the distance.

As the sounds of police sirens get closer Chris pours his whiskey onto the pyre the alcohol making the flames burst higher

Sprozz you where a man of honour and i feel humbled that you would call me a friend rest in peace brother

Chris ducks down a dark allyway as the 1st headlights come into veiw