Sometimes the lizard and I like to lie on our backs on her bed and look at the ceiling. I no longer open her window because she doesn’t like it. Instead we lie there with all the lights on and look at the cracks in the old walls. They draw maps, constellations, but mostly faces. There’s a girl I’ve been seeing on the ceiling for decades now. I don’t know what the lizard sees, but she’s great at concocting imaginary people. She has long conversations with them, gives them snacks.
My imaginary people only eat in the books I write, but I promise you they eat well and often. And between the lizard’s imaginary friends and mine we always have a full house.
