When Vera gave the address to the taxi driver, the man rose his brows.
«Oh, you're here for the funeral, aren't you? Such a loss for the whole village.»
«Funeral?» Vera said, her heart skipping a beat.
But then, she remembered that the village was full of old people. Someone needed to die, now and then. Just a pity she had happened to visit at the time.
Her grandmother would have sent her to the officiations. She was a little fixated with the rituals, especially when it regarded death.
«We need to pay our respects to the death and do what we can, from our side, to guide her towards the right path,» she used to tell her when she was little. «The first days they spend in our world as a soul are difficult, and they might get lost if no one lights a candle for them. Fire will show them the way, dissipating darkness. Our food offers will enforce their spirits to bear the shock of dying.»