Told in The Garden District
I put the poison in her cup. I swear I did. He loved me before she came between us. I guess I drank out of the wrong cup so now it’s me that’s dead. Damn, I’ll have to think of another plan. Oh! I know, I won’t leave and they will have to reach through me to touch each other. It will become so tiresome and difficult and they won’t understand why! I guess now it’s me that’s come between them.
Told in Jackson Square
I will throw myself in the Mississippi if I have to marry him. Either way I’ll die, but at least at the bottom of the river I won’t be sad. This horrible white dress would drag me down. I’m sure of it.
Don’t make me go in that church!
“Ave Maria” – I don’t think so. God is not looking after me either.
I know. I’ll bide my time and make sure it’s him ends up at the bottom of the river.
“I do.”
Ruby had headaches. Such crushing headaches. She couldn’t take it anymore, so she threw herself off the balcony and landed head-first on to Dauphine Street to dull the pain. They said she was pushed – someone just got tired of her screaming and moaning. But no, she dove. And immediately felt better.
This is Not Going to Turn Out Well
I rise for all Americans
stories heard in new orleans and other ghostly places by Dazz Rose
A place for me to tell you stuff where correct grammar is not guaranteed.
tales from the quarter 