I woke with a start, sweat pouring from my body. I felt apprehensive. Nervous. I told myself it had just been a nightmare, but it had seemed so real. Multi-colored fingers grabbing for me through an ooze of bright hues. Maybe it was too much sun. Or the tequila. Probably both.
I dragged myself out of bed, opened the curtains and padded over to my closet. Sliding open the door, the light reflected off my newest tropical shirt and I realized that (to paraphrase a movie line), “this was my dream. This was my nightmare.”
Feeling particularly brave, I slipped into the shirt, one of coolest tropicals I own. I was now ready to face another day, certain I could keep my Inner Mad Gringo at bay. For the moment.
That's Just Mad Gringo