SPARKLES_Better Days_Familiar Cold_Delphine of the Tombs
Catalog Guide:
SPARKLES
Sparkles“Damn.” The sailor turns as a cab pulls up on Girod Street in New Orleans and the driver door window slides down, “You need a ride?”“I do cabby. Follow that car,” he excitedly points to the Nissan pulling out of the parking lot onto Fulton Street. See that Nissan 240Z, that’s the one?”“Hop in Cracker. I been waiting all my life for someone to say that, to quote Gregory Peck, if you know who that is.”***“This tavern is busy and buzzing on a Friday night,” Web says.“Like a cattle corral in here,” his friend and bowww.onedoor.ccss Tower smiles, “maybe a good-looking dame will come in and you can test y...
Better Days
“Well, well, well,”“What?”“After fifteen years, you’re back? Just like that?” “Why are you so angry?”“Why am I angry? For fifteen years you left me forgotten in a folder with the rest of your feverish brain’s outpourings. And now all of a sudden you’re rereading me? And don’t think I don’t know why!”“Okay. I’ll bite. Why?”“Because you’re dry. The old creative juices aren’t flowing lately, are they? So you thought you’d come back here to me, sort of like stealing diamonds and gold from a wreck at the bottom of the sea, except in your case, it’s more like costume jewelry. But we’ll put that asid...
Familiar Cold
It was early January and it had been snowing for a few days now. The city had been forced to a standstill. Chaos around every corner. But here…it was so peaceful. The snow in the city was mushy, tarred, treacherous. Here it was crisp, shimmering, pure. The whole forest around me was covered in it – glistening elegantly in the moonlight. The gleam reflected off my pale skin making me look glowing, almost ethereal. The skies were so much clearer here. I could even make out constellations. Something I can never see from the tiny balcony of my flat.I often came out at night to walk through nature....
Delphine of the Tombs
The last twilight tour ended, and the cemetery hushed to its nightly mystique, scored by the distant echo of tavern trumpets and jazz drummers.The gate closed and locked. And the moon-dipped monuments were, once more, ruled by the dead.Then…a crunch of footsteps.A warm body strolled the walled-in city of graves. A tour guide named Rocco. He whistled past the oven vaults and above-ground tombs, pausing only to huff and snuff the raised candles along the shell-paved pathways. He also broke his tune to chat with Delphine—another warm body. But a much smaller body. With four legs and long whiskers...