Wrapped in dreams, I lay on the night in question tranquilly sleeping, but gradually roused to a perception that discordant sounds disturbed the serenity of my slumber. Loth to stir, I still dozed on, the sounds, however, becoming, as it seemed, more determined to make themselves heard; and I awoke to the consciousness that they proceeded from a belt of adjacent jungle, and resembled the noise that would be produced by some person felling timber.
Shutting my ears to the disturbance, I made no sign, until, with an expression of impatience,......My response:
I reached to the bedside, grabbed my MP3 player and plugged myself in. As the sounds of Sepultura drilled into my skull the ceiling fan trudged its lazy arc. 24 hours. 24 hours then I’d be out of here and back in L.A. Air con and a cool beer.
I sank slightly into the soaked bed, the linen clinging to me like a shower curtain. Sweat dribbled from my body, pooling on my upper lip, under my adam’s apple, in my belly button. A beeping jars my attention, then the music stops - battery dead. No way.
24 hours. Air con and a cool beer.
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