Crescent City Days

A woman reflects on her youth and young adulthood in New Orleans as she tells her various stories to a friend over a cup of coffee.

 

"Oh, yes, he was a hell of man, and that's all you need to know.  A fine gentleman, one of the last of his kind, indeed, a rare breed of excellence only found in the south, I am certain.  He always held my door open and he was always precisely on time.  The latter was something of an inconvenience, for as you know, I am frequently behind schedule, but it was an admirable trait nonetheless.  He had mysterious green eyes that seemed to see through you without letting anyone in to his own soul, just like his subtle smirk of a smile.  He had short brown hair always combed neatly to the side and often wore well pressed shirts and slacks.  

But yes, now that I think back on him as I first knew him, he was quite the incredible young man.  The day we met was an idyllic summer afternoon with a warm breeze.  I remember it quite clearly, you see, as it was the first day that the magnolias were in bloom.  The gentle scent of the elegant white flowers drifted through the town and seemed to surround both of us.  Now that I think about it, all of my memories of my Crescent City days are intertwined with the smell of the magnolia trees.  I can still smell the hint of those lovely blossoms even now.... 

I'm sorry, I'm afraid I didn't hear what you said.  What was your question?"

The End

12 comments about this story Feed