Red Rot

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Proximity to hell

Elysian Bar, New Orleans, sitting on a plaid couch under a gingham curtain with a dozen friends from another town. There are red grits. There is a menu devoted to aperitifs. Candles on the table, white china dishes seen through the window of the next room. Low lights. End of the night conversation. Is heaven a gathering?

To-go cups at night's end. Dim streets. Dust and concrete. I looked at a map of the water rising. It barely hit this curve of the Mississippi. A foot of water in the heaven bar. Only a peep of hell sloshing in.

9:17 a.m. - 2020-02-15

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