La vie du point de vue d'un gecko

So it's a free day--one of three during the week--when I've read, studied, and watched everything I've planned or cared to, and now it's just lying here resting, waiting and praying for the water to come back on. Funny that among all the monumental problems in the world, this is what most occupies one's mind. Then, in the middle of a reverie on the subject of nothing in particular, I catch the sudden streak of something on the wall. It's startling, to say the least. What has invaded the sanctity of this domain? Does no one in Africa respect privacy?

Whatever it is, it decides to halt its forward progress on the uneven plastered surface and survey the landscape (or wallscape). What must be going on in its pinhead-size reptilian brain? Hmm... Is everything all clear? Cautiously at first, it moves its tiny legs, each sporting a fan-shaped array of toes, clinging to the wall with the great ease of a conjurer performing an anti-gravity trick that no observer can possibly figure out. Having determined that there are no tasty morsels in the air--but apparently not noticing the one around the area of my head--it glides smoothly forward, stopping periodically as if to satisfy itself of that conclusion.

Of course, the question must be raised: how did flat-foot get access? A few more moments provide the enlightening response. A thin crack in the corner of the ceiling, almost imperceptible to human eyes, presents itself. A contortion of the long body, a swish of the tail, and the visitor is gone.

One cannot help but watch in silent wonder, tempered with a somewhat disquieting feeling. But no, he (or she) is harmless. Just out for a late evening stroll, and hopefully a quiet dinner to boot.

While we're on the subject of invaders, I am reminded of another, though less benign. This one is oval-shaped, equipped with antennae, a semi-hard shell (at least one that can withstand nuclear attack), and a lot of legs. And, no less than...THREE INCHES LONG, including the feelers. Yes. As long as an index finger. Suffice it to say that one's immediate reaction is to jump on a table, if there were--in this case--a table to jump on. But then the next reaction is one of outrage, of an impulsive desire to call out the cavalry. That is, in the form of a shoe poised to crush this visitor out of existence. Unfortunately, this method of handling the situation is pretty well ineffective, given the instinctive abilities of the pursued, so the best one can do is chase it (whatever gender it is) out the front door. Hey, go bother the neighbors! They probably have better food than I do!

After such an exciting day, I can't do much better than retire for the evening, with thoughts of water, water everywhere ("and not a drop to drink") swirling in my mind.