While eating enchiladas

I let the mariachi music flow through my bones. My soul was warmed from the inside out and my mouth tasted of cinnamon and chocolate and warm bread.The music charged my mind as an array of colors floated through the slurred smooth words of the mexican music. Even though the divey atmosphere screamed health violation and food poisoning, I was transported away on the wings of the drum and guitar. I was in a small village at a festival. There were steaming hot cauldrons of food, loud music and laughter. Children ran through the dust and women dancid. Men joined in on their instruments. But as the music faded and thesong came to a close, I was sucked back into reality. There I was, back in the crowded mexican restaraunt on possibly the grossest street of whole city, staring mindlessly into that small mexican village.