Liberty's Sparkle (16)

   
   "Liberty's Sparkle (16)"
   
   Mr. McQuade had passed violently in his sleep, fighting and challenging the angel of death till he had no more; regardless, them blonde Nordic females adoring bravery, took him up heavenways, till beyond the big neon glitter of galactic illumination, into a unified state of grace and eternal peace in a livelihood of loving, being an Irish storyteller forever charmed by sublimity, and having English friends capable of documenting his deliverance.  Liberty and Faye were the only ones at the cremation; furthermore they stood near a crooked creek, water barely flowing, but so alive, dumping his ashes into the challenge of nature.
  
FAYE
He was a tough old bird, and he will be missed.

LIBERTY
Never forgotten--not this year.

FAYE
I heard that in a Roddy Piper movie.

LIBERTY
The poor in spirit shall, uh--theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  Make yourself like unto a child did Christ offer in the Proclamation of the Kingdom.

FAYE
We shouldn't get that deep; he was an old man after all.

LIBERTY
Ya, but he was a freaking cerebral scrapper.  And gave charity as well.  Glimpsed her golden Crucifix the old man had given her, so shiny and full of diamond-like sparkle on the Messiah's wounds.  And Liberty wondered.  Wondered if it was all real.  Life; plus, that of money.  She rubbed the Crucifix; next, offered silent prayer for Mr. McQuade.