Faraway Bees. Chapter 590.
Life is full of predictably petty disappointments.
I have spent the day with Miss Lard today. It was another beautiful New Orleans day.
I picked Miss Lard up on my Vespa, promptly at 8:00AM. She rode on the back, behind me, Mrs. Peel-style.
Can you imagine having a last name like Lard? I am sure there are worse last names. Imagine having a last name Doglick or Uranus. Close your eyes and imagine it.
You would be a very different person.
Children can be so cruel. Immigration agents at Ellis Island, too.
Miss Lard lives in the 7th Ward, in a part where there is no reason to go unless you live there. It is the part where the highway overpasses crisscross, around North Miro and Frenchmen Streets—not the part of Frenchmen Street you are thinking. There is more to Frenchmen Street than the part where all the locals go to listen to music.
Miss Lard lives in the the part of the 7th Ward that is a tempting location to dump a dead body, not that anyone has ever done that. Heaven forbid.
There is a nice playground across the street from her house.
It was just a straight shot down Miro Street to my house. I live in the 6th Ward. I can see the 7th Ward from my front door. It is right across the street.
There are no vistas in a city at sea level, only innumerable details, clutter, a thicket of bric-à-brac.
I do not have a second helmet…
I should put the paywall up. Things are about to get juicy….
You should become a paid subscriber. Try it for a month and you will be a friend for life.