Submitted as part of "Beyond the Wall of Sleep," group. This is a Gothic Horror story with is beyond my comfort zone but wanted to participate. Hope you enjoy.
New Orleans used to be a city of elegance and beauty. It's all gone now, and instead of laissez les bons temps rouler, I get the leftovers from a Cold War era gulag. Except sometimes, I see things. Hear things too. A brass band leading a funeral procession. A whiff of magnolia. The whisper of live oaks draped in Spanish moss. I don't know what's real anymore. And I can't get out.
