| Previous | Glossary | Contents |
Next |
| Your View | Related Sites | Bookstore | Home page |
San Juan November 13, 1932
It rained torrents four times today. It was a cold rain and my clothes are thin and shelter did not exist. My feet were ankle deep in mud. I tried to find shelter, crawled under a rock, got wet, came out and almost drowned in the usual tropical cloudburst. Cigarettes wet, not a dry stitch on me, an hour’s ride to San Juan with a breeze almost freezing my wet clothes. A cold shower. A slight dinner. A bad-tasting cigarette. This letter. And then bed, praise be to God. I only hope I wake up feeling better though I know I won’t. Wish I had a great big drink. Still shivering though the thermometer is hovering around ninety.