As he turned his back to close the door she bent to light a candle. He closed his eyes and sucked in the sharp sulfur and sweet wax smell, listened in his momentary flash of blindness to the snap zip rustle of her dress, the sizzle of the candle, faint laughter in the distant street. Before he turned he ran his sightless hand down the wall, found and pulled down on the light switch.
Everything clicked.
Mark Folse is a provincial diarist and aspiring minor poet from New Orleans. His past blogging adventures included the Katina/Federal Flood blog wetbankguide on blogspot.com which David Simon told NY Magazine was one of three blogs that helped inform Treme, and Toulouse Street–Odd Bits of Life in New Orleans, which once outranked the Doobie Brothers on Google Search. His work has appeared in The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, The New Delta Review, Metazen, New Laurel Review, Ellipsis, What We Know: New Orleans as Home, Please Forward, The Maple Leaf Rag IV, and A Howling in the Wires (which he co-edited).
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Well Bottom Blues 
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