Stories tagged new-orleans


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It’s never good to get arrested on an empty stomach.

Death on the Caribbean

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I was nearing the end of a long journey. The sun was large. I was weary but awake. I wanted food (...)

One Big Ghetto, One Big Parking Lot

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It should be a simple law of the universe that anyone waiting for a freshly-minted Xanax prescription should not have to stand in line for two and a half hours in a pharmacy packed wall-to-wall with hurricane evacuees. People talk only of FEMA, homeowner's policies, flood…

Le Bon Temps

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By the time the tuba player rolls in from Houston, there's only an hour left until curfew. He shuffles his way through the crowd on the sidewalk, dips his horn through the doorway, and wedges himself up onto the tiny stage with the other four players. Now the Hot 8 Brass…

FEMA, FEMA, and more FEMA

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The FEMA man has an electronic clipboard and an electronic pen, and he taps away as I answer his questions. “Robbi your real name?” he says. “Not short for Roberta or Robin or something?” “Nope,” I say. “My name is Robbi.” …

Social Aid & Pleasure (novel excerpt)

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There were aliens at Roswell after all. Hundreds of the dusty bastards.

Chapter 1/cats

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Cats always seemed very European to me, flourishing as they did in decrepit, ancient spaces as long as the food kept coming.

Traveling Lightheaded

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He lit my cigarette even though he didn't want me to smoke. Buying me drinks all night, he didn't complain, but he thought I drank too much.


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When you live in New Orleans, the only time you ever get to see cows is at the Winn-Dixie 24 Hour Super Store, in the back between the dairy and the seafood.

Easy to Show

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“3.9 million dollars,” she whispered to the window.

Rubble Fever

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Two summers ago, there was a flickering moment, before my conscience kicked in, when I considered setting fire to this house.

The Cone of Uncertainty

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I slept through my first hurricane.

Rubble Fever, continued

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The Saturday morning before Hurricane Katrina hits, my phone starts ringing before dawn, but I am slow to wake.

Calvin Hangs

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I never faked being electrified, nor sniffed a broken open tooth, or mothball

Butterfly, Butterflown

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Erik Amré watches a butterfly advance against the breeze in Boston. Erik fears metamorphosis because he cannot foreknow what he'll become, yet he fears what he has become: adrift and a disappointment to the memory of his students and…