The guy on the corner looked up, and his sax switched to ‘Stormy Monday’. I wondered if the ghost of T-Bone was laughing as the New Orleans rain began to fall. The Walker was OK, but this was the Big Easy. Not Linden-Texas. So I eased over. “You know any Jelly-Roll?”
He looked sad. “All I got’s the Wolverine Blues.”
I shrugged. “That’s fine.” I waved a fifty.
The full moon showed his flush, like he had fever. The rain washed over the hair springing from his face. The last thing I heard was the echo of his howl.
If you like this flash fiction don't forget to vote for it in our voting poll on the left side.