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At The Corner of Lust and Desire
When it comes to planning our family’s summer vacations, I can always count on Mom. Like the summer we visited ‘famous cities and their streetcars’. One such streetcar, on our itinerary, was even named Desire. The one you never want to be seen stepping in or out of, at 17, no matter who you’re with.
“But Mom,” I protested, “I will not get on that streetcar. Why, the name of it makes me blush.”
“It’s a streetcar, Kayla, and the name of the street it used to run on.” It was mid-July, in New Orleans. Mom threw me a side glance that could have killed. “Don’t make a scene, Kayla,” she pleaded. “Let’s not add linguistic phobia to our vacation list of things to avoid.”
“Oh my!” I adjusted my sunglasses, smiled, and took in the guy who’d just boarded Desire. I watched his eyes sweep over me. “Okay, Mom, whatever you say.”