merchant city
this is where the wealth came in. sugar. cotton. tobacco. extraction and enclosure made into ornament.
the names are still here— merchant, plantation, st. vincent— not by accident. this city remembers through what it refuses to rename.
i walk this route not to map it, but to feel where the archive ends.
this dérive isn’t about finding answers. it’s about tracking the infrastructure of forgetting. what the buildings obscure. what the street names naturalize. what passes for neutral.
these façades aren’t just stone. they’re policy. they’re inheritance. they’re proof that the empire never left— just rebranded.