Chapter 5: None of My Business
Dream-weaving…
It happens again the following night, except this time Marcos’s scream is much louder and more prominent. In fact, a string of screams is heard, immediately waking me from a Marcos-dream which entails our naked and soapy bodies connected in my upstairs shower. Challenged by the neighbor’s horrifying yelps, I am pulled out of the intoxicating dream, gasp for air, open my eyes wide, and begin to collect my composure.
Because I am naked, uncomfortable with clothes on due to the summer’s unkind heat and humidity, I find a pair of boxer-briefs from the top drawer of my dresser, slip into the fabric, and have every intention of investigating the Marine and his terror yet again.
It’s another terrifying dream, I imagine. Marcos is somewhere in Afgh
