By Colleen Foley
Marie Laveau appeared as Seth’s magic
petered out. She held a bead, large, red/black and pulsing. It shot
from her hand to hit the houngan in the chest. He screamed as it rooted
into him like a parasite.
“You dare take da power I give you and use for it for dis? For petty revenge? And you call me whore? I …made …you.”
Everything slowed then, like viewing interactive performance art in some bugfuck mad gallery.
She never took her eyes from her son, but she spoke only to me.
“You are both out of time. Do it now, boy.”