I am uncomfortably full, but I didn’t want to waste a single bite of that fresh-caught mahi mahi. I adjust my seatbelt and glace at Jer. He looks as sleepy and well-fed as I feel.
I tinker with the AC, turn it up a notch and direct the vents just a smidgeon closer to me.
At a stoplight, I grab my phone and swap my Margaritaville playlist for one more appropriate for the weather. Something classical, quiet, and brooding.
Storm clouds gather in great heaps in the dark sky. The fluffy pink cotton balls I snapped photos of at sunset now look ominous in the moonlight. Lightning slices, a hot blue line lighting up everything in the sky. An instant later, another shock of lightning bolts toward the ocean.
I expect a crack of thunder to follow, but nothing. Not even a low rumble. A few raindrops splatter my windshield, but not enough to keep the wipers moving.
Another bolt of lightning, this time invisible to me, except that it backlights a great swath of grey and black clouds.
I yawn, but the brewing storm keeps me on full alert. Our evening in Key West, celebrating the sunset at Mallory Square, watching the street performers, tipping the dog who took our cash and deposited it in his owner’s bucket, was all it promised to be. But my favorite part of the night will be watching this gorgeous light show play out in the clouds for the full two-hour drive back to Islamorada.