Destination Unknown.
Interstate 10 is the East-West route from Florida to California along the Gulf Coast, through Texas, and across the deserts of the West. It runs in elevated over the North Claiborne Avenue neutral ground. No matter how many murals get painted on its pillars, there is nothing pretty about it. If you look at old photos of the neutral ground it will make you cry like an Indian.
New Orleans is a city of ain’t dere no more.
The past is forever palimpsest in backatown. Slavery and freedom are forever intermixed. Bodies are blanketed, unseen, between layers of mud. Bones eventually breathe after heavy rains wash away wet graves. After the water sets in, it recedes. Waterlines leave permanent stains.
New Orleans abhors a vacuum. An empty address is a missing tooth in a broken smile. An old city is flayed, its flesh crisscrossed with scars. Some neighborhoods have more character than others. Some places have little left to lose. Those places know the secret to survival. They have what it takes.
….and so we begin.
I have been studying the work of a master craftsman. If you know anyone looking for a set of the first eight Hardy Boys books, I have a set for sale.
