new orleans: a city where everything swims

i just wandered through the streets where the music sneaks under your feet. the heat hit like a bucket of cold water, but that’s just the price tag for being here. neighbors say if you get bored, the alleyways hold secrets-maybe it’s just a whisper or a shadow. recently, someone whispered i’ve been bumped by the bartender, and i’d better trust the air here. maybe it’s just humidity, but let’s not pretend it’s not. some say the parks are cursed, others say they’re just trying to teach you patience. i walked past a mural that looks like a cat stuck in a wheelbarrow, which somehow makes you forget how fast you’re running. the weather? let’s say it’s a mix of muggy and... something. i ended up in a café where the barista tried not to hate me. links: tripadvisor’s new orleans guide, yelp reviews for my weird habit, and local boards for dodging tourist traps. another one’s there for the blues scene-don’t ask how i got here. those reviews? they’re just gossip told softly.

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