“Oh … my … God!” The rather sexy, bikini-clad woman in the hammock looked down at the glob of goo that had dribbled out of my mouth and then back up to me. “Are you like dying or something?”
It was such a lovely spot for a hammock: A shady little nook just off the sand on the Bahamian beach. I coughed and hacked a bit more and admired the colorful material that had been expelled from my mouth.
“That’s nothing,” I said. “You should see what’s been coming out of the other end! Don’t worry though: I’m sure it’s not Ebola.”
She packed up her stuff in a hurry and took off running. The hammock was mine! I put my novelty phlegm away and lay back in the shade.