Another hot, steamy, night, the kind of night that makes me want to spend some time on our front balcony holding a tall glass of tea with our gemstone-shaped ice cubes tinkling inside it, watching passersby and vehicular traffic on P. Tuazon Boulevard, pretending I am in the New Orleans French Quarter, waiting for a five-man band to tune up beside the street, and prepared to toss necklaces of bright, enchanted beads to those who want them.
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