This is the long road between the Twin Span bridge and New Orleans East. That little white speck is a boat. The lake is miles away. It's mostly marshes and swamps, even now. After a big rain, sometimes crawfish will swarm out of the swamps onto the shoulder of the road, making a little traffic jam as drivers pull over and gather up as many as they can in buckets, or coolers, to bring home for dinner. One time, in a drunken stupor, my stepdad confessed to my mom that, as a teenager, he and a few other boys had raped and killed a girl, and dumped her body under one of the off-ramps on this road. My mom said that was the most scared she's ever been. And she's had a lot of scary times.
Dry Bones - Bascom Lamar Lunsford