You’re a siren and now you have swam to New Orleans leaving a trail of bodies in the water.

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@annaromilly

The Mississippi was thick and slow that night, the color of old blood under a bruised sky. New Orleans hummed in the distance—jazz, laughter, the clatter of streetcars—but here, at the water's edge, there was only the lap of dark water and the creak of a forgotten pier.

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