15
THE PASSING OF THE STORM
When Irving became too uncomfortable with his head in Jessica’s lap, he got to his feet.
“Are you doing okay?” a young man, sitting on the hood of the hovercar, asked.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Irving said as he brushed himself off. “I feel…funny, though.”
“Can I ask your name?” the young man asked as he slid off the hood to his feet.
“Irving. Irving Strange,” Irving said, sticking out his hand.
The young man took his hand. “Phil,” he said.
Irving turned around and saw Jessica still sitting on the ground with his head in her lap. “I’m dead, aren’t I?” Irving asked.
“You got it right off,” Phil said. “Sometimes it takes a while.”
“Am I supposed to move on?” Irving asked after a long pause.
Phil nodded. “When you’re ready. There’s no rush. Let me ask, Elysian
