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Unformatted text preview: he house of her own accord? That was perfectly fine, exactly what she wanted. And on she walked down the block, unseen, unstopped, towards downtown. How clear were the black-barked oaks, and the beaten down grass of the tree parks. She saw the clutter and trash ofMardi Gras still piled everywhere in the gutters, and in the trash cans which were never enough to contain it. She walked on, past the drab shabby portable bathrooms they brought out now for Mardi Gras Day, catching the wretched smell of all that filth, and on and on to Louisiana Avenue. Litter everywhere she looked, and from the high branches of the trees hung Mardi Gras necklaces of plastic beads, the kind they threw now, glittering in the sunlight. There was nothing so sorry in the world ever, she thought, as St. Charles Avenue after Mardi Gras Day. She waited for the stoplight to change. An old colored woman, very properly dressed, waited there also. "Good morning, Patricia," she said to the woman, and the woman gave a start beneath her black...
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- Spring '10