I hear her music surge through the basket fibers. I wander down Rainbow Row wondering if one can really go home, again. Foreign accents blend in with subtle southern sarcasm. A humming motorboat slices the murky water surrounding a postcard view of Fort Sumter. Lords of Discipline trot past an Indian restaurant, their faces replicas of O'Conner's Mystery and Manners.
Shoppers purchase replicas of the nigger-nanny lore.
A basket weaver continues her work, pieces of region fall in her lap. A glow outlines her face. I pass through the unfolding streets, Unnoticed. The moon lifts its scornful eye over moss-haunted branches rekindling forgotten promises in the saltwater air.