Rebels of The Sierra Madre
Rebels of The Sierra Madre Hallucinations, castigations, and celebrations of mañana in Mexico. Good Citizen Prompt: Mexican rebels in the Sierra Madre posing for a photo in the jungle in the style of Gaugin. Traversing the cobbled hills of Bucerias between tacos de res and shots of mezcal a boy approaches with a dirty face and bare feet. He recognizes me from a prior transaction. His Spanish doesn't register in the unusual winter afternoon of oppressive heat as the sweat beads play between the roots of my eyebrows. “The rebels are near from the hills!” He points excitedly toward the Sierra Madre on the outskirts of town. Or maybe he was pointing to something else entirely. The day before I gave him twenty pesos to whistle for a taxi and carry my groceries to the trunk of another white Nissan Sentra with creaking doors. “It won't be much longer now until we're liberated. You should disappear Gringo before it's too late. They won't be happy to see you.” “Como te ll
