The year I went to Mexico I had cut all of my hair off and I felt ugly but different. I still had those old demons chasing me a bit and giving me a sore belly, but Mexico was a good place for me to go.

The man with nightmares slept across from us in the courtyard. He would wake us up every night screaming and moaning for whatever horrible thing he saw to stop. One night some people knocked on his door to make sure he was alright. He came out and wearily told them that it happened every night.

"That sounds very bad." they said.

One night d woke up from a bad dream. I had drifted off to the sound of the man across the way crying when d bolted upright. He said he heard a little demon knocking at the gate, "helllllloooooo? hellllloooooo?". D said he was afraid that someone would answer the door.

"You are OK, " I said.

And we are.