Youthful Folly

Moss-slick columns of antebellum boredom tower around Nancy, a plantation-bred firefly in a jar, aching for neon. Into the languid candle-smoke drifts Lola, Manhattan’s velvet catastrophe, trailing a comet-tail of adultery and unpaid hotel bills. Behind her slinks David—tuxedoed shark, eyes like gin poured over opals—determined to reclaim Lola or ignite whatever flammable heart crosses his path. Nancy’s spinster aunts, three crows in bombazine, smell a chance to offload their restless kin; they fan the sparks until vows are swapped, lace veils traded for shackles, and the bayou air thickens with erotic treachery. Yet fickle moonlight refracts: weddings curdle, mirrors crack, and every exit sign points deeper into the maze. What begins as a country cousin’s rescue fantasy mutates into a swamp-lily noir where innocence is auctioned to the highest bidder and pleasure carries compound interest.