... ..beaten with the ugly schtick ....September 11, 2007     Walking toward the river on Poydras, Elliott Longstreet was unaware the hunter had become prey.  Inside the white cargo van parked in a loading zone across the street, a shutter snapped, rapid-fire, from behind a tinted window.  At St. Charles, Longstreet stopped at the crosswalk while the afternoon rush-hour traffic rumbled past him.  He felt tired of the city.  He felt tired of himself.  He felt tired of himself in the city. This isn't funky or charming.  The grime, the crime, the corruption.  It feels like a schtick. previous..|..current..|..archives..|..3d quarter index..|..next

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