The Calling

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Even thousands of miles away, hints bombard the senses, every minute of every day.

The burst of fresh coffee’s aroma, and the knowledge that it won’t be perfect.

A wall of air so steamy, it’s worn like soggy paper.

Silent fog, swirling, devouring all in its path without remorse.

Snippets of jazz, riding on a veiled wind.

The fleeting whiff of a long forgotten candle.

Whispers of spirits hidden in the midnight rain.

In her sultry voice, New Orleans is always calling us home.

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One thought on “The Calling

  1. Scott says:

    In 3 seconds you brought me back to the quarter

    Liked by 1 person

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