Mexico
Through tears, the grout
lines seemed surreal. Delirious from dehydration and exhaustion, I laid
lifeless on the bathroom tile. It had been over 48 hours since I had
slept for fear of soiling another set of sheets, clothes, and towels. The
floor must have been cold, but I could no longer feel it. From beneath
the door, I heard Senora Campos, the matriarch and cook of the
household, hen peck her husband, "él no necesita a un médico !" A house
call would have ignite neighborhood gossip, chard her reputation, and
incinerated her livelihood. The Spanish language school would never
send her anymore boarders, if they found out the food poisoning had come from her kitchen. "...pedo, el médico no trabaja los Domingos" was followed by a moment of silence before foot steps walked away from the door.
