wild

Wild being out here. You can hear fireworks at any given moment. Horns and bugles pumping in the background, playing some tune that is driving me mad. The cold wind is blowing strong through the slightly cracked window of my room on the second floor of this apartment building on Limones Street in Queretaro. People are making all kinds of noise outside, but I don’t understand any of it.
Little kids play in the street here until long after dark. The mosquitoes are constantly on the prowl, and an old man selling bread on the corner continues his fruitless cries of “Pan.” “Paaaaan.”
A car alarm sounds in the darkness, and a dog barks along. Night falls over the city and the smell of thick corn chips drenched in hot sauce rises from the street. The clouds loom teasingly over us as if threatening a rain that will not seem to fall. Outside my window, a chicken is clucking and dogs are lying next to each other to gear up for the cold night.
The only light in the house comes from the laptop computer I am hammering feverishly away at, and maybe that is what is drawing these winged monsters. These modern-day vampires.
The wind has stopped, along with the car alarm and the screams from the street. Silence. Just for a moment. Can it get colder? Will it? Do mosquitoes fly south for the winter?
I am an American werewolf in Mexico, and I have a vicious hankering for some apple soda.
How much longer will I stay here. I originally only planned to be here for two weeks. But why not a little longer? Maybe I can do Europe in the wintertime.