Small town
Sunday morning, I walked over to S’s house and he made me a delicious breakfast of scrappel – don’t ask – but as we sat at the table eating I watched J in her new ska-noe motoring up and down the bayou. She couldn’t fit under the bridge because the water is too damn high so she just went back and forth between Dumaine and Harding. Then suddenly she had her dog Lucky in the boat with her wearing a life jacket – and together they passed back and forth about twenty times.
There was something about the moment that left a haunting image in my mind of how small a town we live in here in New Orleans – and in particular – how small our little bayou community is.