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Winter's Whisper
Rare snow as city surprise.
Snow in New Orleans is gossip, not climate. Flakes arrive like a rumor — white on iron balconies, quiet on brass that usually wins.
The city slows without apology. Supplies get bought. Magic is real and also inconvenient.
Serenity is not innocence. It is the breath you take when the heat finally releases its grip.
The whisper fades. The brass remembers its job.
JV · Dark Heart Labs