One morning my sister, Iris, and I were walking to work at our family’s antique store. It was early, but the New Orleans French Quarter was already bustling with activity.
For several days, we’d been watching the progress of workers making some sort of hole in the wall at the old Hibernia Bank building. We were quite amazed that this sort of hole in the wall could even be allowed in such an old Spanish era building.
On this particular morning, the work had been finished. Atop some odd-looking post office box contraption read:
“What do you think that means?” Iris asked me.
photo prompt – © Dee Lovering