Damn this lonely and bleak season.
Could you be a ghost? Are the undead capable of haunting each other? Credible sources tell me no. Not possible.
Yet, you come to me in dreams so vivid, I tremble for hours. Everywhere in this labyrinth, I see you. Your figure blurs in one blink and fades to nothing in the next. A mirage of the way you were on the day we met-innocent and unscarred.
Tricks for my eyes and torture for my soul.
Lies and treachery are woven into life’s tapestry for New Orleans’ first family. Theatrics seem normal-until they sabotage everything.
One last fight. Crossed signals.
One final truce. Buried resentment.
One handwritten note. Love paid the price.
My eternal mission is to rekindle that fire and honor our wedding vows. I did write them myself.