By Ernest Hogan
An extract from the novel High Aztech:
I thought I had died, but it was an ixmictiante flowery death, in a battle with a proud Aztecan warrior, so I was happy. I knew it wasn’t Mictlantecuhtli and Mictlancíhuatl that were waiting for me this time. I knew that once my soul had fled my virus and drug-infested body, it would fly high into the sky, to where the sun rises, to Tonatiuhicán, the Eastern House of the Sun, the celestial home of Tonatiuh, Tezcatlipoca and Huitzilopochtli. For sure all three of those warrior-gods would be there to greet me, and congratulate me on such a fine, flowery death. They would accept my soul into their home, and I would change into a Tonatiuhototl, a fiery sun-bird. I would flap my flaming wings and go off to join all my millions of squadrons of brother warriors, and we would recall all the glorious battles we fought in life until sunrise, when we would go forth and chase away the darkness and the demonic spirits that live within it.
I was happy. I thanked the gods for the mind-altering virus that made the Aztecan religion real to me. I could hardly wait.
But it didn’t happen. Read Gringos