Swamp Land

Frogs chirp and huge snails drag along the pavement. It's rainy season.  There are more mosquitos and more cases of malaria. The rain comes down in thin, constant sheets. It's tempting to walk in if you don't mind getting soaked. We watch the lunar eclipse from a bar on the beach. The moon is red and then exposed. Another night, we play tennis and swim and talk about how relatively easy it is to live here and at that precise moment I slip and fall in a hole. In the dark I couldn't see the cut-out piece of road. I scrape my legs on the way down and come out cut up and bleeding. A coincidence, I suppose.