In Low Bone Parish, the water don’t knock. It just rises. Quiet at first, like breath held too long. It slicks along the bayou’s edge, kisses porch steps, then swallows whole towns without a word. Folks call it a...
What the Water Took
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In Low Bone Parish, the water don’t knock. It just rises. Quiet at first, like breath held too long. It slicks along the bayou’s edge, kisses porch steps, then swallows whole towns without a word. Folks call it a...