Sharks with no foresight
Chapter 12. The Atlantic Coast and its Caribbean pirates
Historical Center, Puebla, Mexico
“This is a lovely country estate, Grandpa! More than that, it’s paradise.” We were in a country-house that belonged to one of Grandfather’s many friends. It was beyond description. Our rooms had a terrace that adjoined this refreshing garden, hammocks strung out in the shade under the trees. The luxuriant green grass was perfectly mowed and abundantly dotted with tiny flowers, with intense tropical colors. In the center was a fountain that happily gurgled, mixing its sound with the many bird calls echoing in the garden.
“Did you like the shrimp?” Grandfather laughed as he asked.
“I’m so stuffed; I really don’t think I’ll get up from this wonderful hammock, and my eyes don’t seem to stay open” I answered dreamily, installed in a brightly-colored hammock. “I vote for a quick nap in the shade; let’s make it a short one, maybe for an hour or two?” That was wishful thinking; ten minutes later, we were on our way to the Santa Cruz beach nearby.
“Do you believe the sharks are swimming in this beach?”
“Don’t worry kiddo, remember they’re blind, so those sharks can’t see you”
“I believe I’ll sunbathe up there and take another small nap, Grandfather…”
In the land of volcanoes’ Chapters Purchase the book