The stories I had quietly carried for years, the night visitors, the warnings, the ancestral echoes never left me. Instead, they began to change temperature. They wanted water. They wanted air that pressed close to the skin. They wanted heat, rot, and movement.
Robert Johnson’s name carries a strange weight. He’s a ghostly figure in American music—a man who recorded just 29 songs in the 1930s and then vanished, leaving behind not only legendary blues tracks but also one of the most enduring myths in music history: that he sold his soul to the Devil in exchange for his musical talent.
