Remains of the Night…

Last October while visiting New Orleans, I took an early Sunday morning stroll down Bourbon Street. The remains from the previous night’s revelry was both astonishing and intriguing. I imagines myself as a forensic anthropologist trying to put together the story of the past inhabitants. Each plastic grenade cup, each oyster shell, and each overflowing trash can have a story waiting to be retold…

One thought on “Remains of the Night…

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