The Mississippi Drift
Act I: The Eyes in the Sky The house at the end of Bayou Teche had been dying for longer than Silas Duvalle had been alive, and it was dying in the way that Southern houses die: slowly, gracefully, and with a kind of stubborn dignity that made the decay almost respectable. The French roof leaked in the rains. The cypress pillars leaned at angles that geometry would disapprove of but beauty...
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