I HAD NOT NOTICED HER when I first arrived. My senses were preoccupied with the smell and state of the eatery, not to mention Art who always seems to demand attention. It’s possible I did not take notice due to the debris surrounding her. The Altar blended in, adding to the rough conditions of the shop. I kneeled lower to get a clear view of the detail, her empty skeleton eye sockets now directly at me.
Beads and necklaces. Dried flowers. Ash trays with half smoked cigars and cigarettes. Small demitasse cups filled with tequila, all cluttered at her feet. Offerings I suspected. It reminded me of the Marie Laveau grave my wife and I visited during our trip to New Orleans. An unorganized collection of offerings from the tourists that would visit the historic Saint Louis cemetery (my wife le
