I am sure many of you read the article in The New Yorker a few weeks back, the one about pythons loose in Florida. They grow to epic sizes and slink around, swallowing up small pets and sometimes alligators.
I'm on the edge of Florida right now, and I'm hoping I will only run into sharks. No, I'm not hoping that. I'm hoping for guppies.
I'm on the edge of Florida, and the sun is shining despite the forecast for thunderstorms. Driving down through Alabama yesterday, I thought I saw Noah and his Arc, but it was only a hallucination brought on my fatigue and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Not to mention the Wendy's burger we bought in Montgomery. We decided against eating at Waffle House until later, but I will scoop me up some of that grease soon.
The point is, the rain was as epic as the size of the python. Things are big in Florida. Some people are big here, too. Not arc size, but close. Soda cups are epic. Ginormous. Big as the gulf.
We are off now with our huge towels to sit under the huge umbrella and watch huge waves. Later we will drink epic sized pina coladas, which, after experimentation last night, have proved not to be fatal. I can't drink wine. I can't drink tequila. But rum is in.
Causes Jessica Inclán Supports
Women for Women International Goodwill Industries Lindsey Wildlife Museum Freecycle.org