Rhienna Renèe Guedry † Map, Quest

The book I haven’t finished takes place somewhere I can’t get back to, it’s the heartburn of longing, senses I have to fictionalize (so there’s sadness too): the specificity of jambalaya songs and Google Image Searching along the basins and backroads of Louisiana, a route eclipsed by water and waterways that behave like roadways which the maps sometimes can’t tell which is which, I’ve got to fake the whole damn thing from a fever dream of memory.