The sounds, the smell, the sights, and the eerie and melancholy, but somehow always beautiful sound of jazz music assaulted the man's eardrums, as usual, as the dusk began to darkness, and the final rays of the sun lit up the sky in an incandescent, orange glow, which perfectly match the scene. New Orleans was a city, Michael O'Loughlin was still to become accustom to, and that showed in the way his bright green eyes shifted from side to side, his attention caught by the bright dolls and trinkets in the market stalls, and owners of thoose stalls and small shops who attempted to entice him closer with the promise of magic, in their lyrical, musical voices; the timbre of the native's, and the creole obviously distinguishable from the tourists
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The crowds were no different from those of new york, however, what was on offer was, and he couldn't help as his gaze moved from a woman, her skin cararmel, and face wrinked with age, to the brightly coloured doll in her hand, then back to her face, and she shook his head with a smile. How could people still believe in voodoo and magic in these enlightened times?" Did they really believe in it, or was the tradition kept alive only for the tourists, and to allow the poor non-whites to make a living, their toys and trinkets purchased, not from desire or need by those of wealth, or privilege, but from sympathy? He didn't have the answer to that, and neither did he have the time to contemplate it. Michael hadn't entered the district to satiate his desires, or to drink away the filth of the day, which on any other ocassion, he may have, but for a purpose. Madame Estelle, and pushed his way through the crowds with a steely determination that, at first glace, may not have been obvious the lanky 6"2, bespectacled man, with the friendly, open face, shock of ginger hair. accompanied today, by, a matching five o'lcock shadow, and the hint of an Irish accent, would possess. However, one did not rise in the ranks of the New York Times Investigative crime reporting ranks, and achive enoough notoriety, and reputation, to be headhunted by the New Orlean's Sentinel, and offered a salary that his previous employers
The crowds were no different from those of new york, however, what was on offer was, and he couldn't help as his gaze moved from a woman, her skin cararmel, and face wrinked with age, to the brightly coloured doll in her hand, then back to her face, and she shook his head with a smile. How could people still believe in voodoo and magic in these enlightened times?" Did they really believe in it, or was the tradition kept alive only for the tourists, and to allow the poor non-whites to make a living, their toys and trinkets purchased, not from desire or need by those of wealth, or privilege, but from sympathy? He didn't have the answer to that, and neither did he have the time to contemplate it. Michael hadn't entered the district to satiate his desires, or to drink away the filth of the day, which on any other ocassion, he may have, but for a purpose. Madame Estelle, and pushed his way through the crowds with a steely determination that, at first glace, may not have been obvious the lanky 6"2, bespectacled man, with the friendly, open face, shock of ginger hair. accompanied today, by, a matching five o'lcock shadow, and the hint of an Irish accent, would possess. However, one did not rise in the ranks of the New York Times Investigative crime reporting ranks, and achive enoough notoriety, and reputation, to be headhunted by the New Orlean's Sentinel, and offered a salary that his previous employers