lived for h

he craved a sound that would make New Orl

power, real power, not

ng almost spiritual, could be woven in

ief cons

ed to provide the soundtr

y said could soothe a storm,

and Julian were upstairs, I sat in the humi

eeper songs passed down through gen

g, for warding off sorrow, for me

just ambiance

like a piece of my v

rgain, a de

n ye

au, Izzy' s grandmother, had

, the last of the

a shadow of ill-gotten gains and ea

enerations, an heirloom carved from a lightnin

family, specifically Izzy, fr

, a ghost after the death of

weaving my life force into her fract

vibrant, and th

t was a new

my hands, but my l

the weight of them pressed down on m

my gift, my heritage,

my presence, except to sometimes nod, a

was the only light

a voice as sweet

to my hymns, a pure, untainted

or her I

s growing, and I felt a co

s eyes sometimes lingered on Rosie i