The Snake in the Bayou
The magnolia trees of Bayou Road bloomed in May, and their flowers fell like white tears onto the cracked marble walkway of the Boudreaux plantation, each one a small perfect death that smelled impossibly sweet in the Louisiana heat. Clara Boudreaux stood on the porch and watched them fall, her hands folded in front of her dress, her face a mask of calm that she had practiced in the mirror for...
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