When I sat down again the next day underneath the umbrella, a lizard had apparently already been on the blanket for some time. Oblivious or indecisive toward our human activity, it eventually crawled between my legs, such that I felt I couldn’t move much, gentle and giant and without gestures, transfixed in some meeting between kingdoms. It was oddly relaxed, like a cat. Eventually, by the third or fourth hand, it crawled up my foot, camouflaged as mine was in a thin layer of sand, really holding on, embracing.
Like it really wanted to be a part of us. Some other kind of player entirely; one that distracted.
Like it was a child I had to be aware of, constantly.