Lizards and Fingers

Topic of my own choosing

The sky was the baby blue of my new tricycle with streaks of mandarin orange peels highlighting the end of another innocent day. He stood beside my 5 year old self, with clothes smelling of Chinese take-out and the sweat of yesterday’s hot sun. The evening sprayed us with cool air as we waited for dinner to be prepared.

Suddenly, a creature the color of mud and tea scurried across the old, rain-eaten fence. It stopped right in front of me, staring at me with curious, reptilian eyes. My small, inexperienced hands reached out to grab it when he pulled me back gently. Laughing, he asked if I knew what would happen if I touched it. My head naturally shook in disagreement. Laughing again, he spoke in a soft, ominous voice, “If you touch it, it will bite your fingers off!” Fear grabbed ahold of me and I grabbed onto his worn pant leg, wanting him to protect the few fingers I had. He picked me up in one dramatic swoop and drew me against his shoulder, reassuringly patting my back as he told a forgotten joke that led to giggles from the both of us. Shortly after, we went inside for dinner and the rest of that night faded out of my young memory. As the sun rose to caress the sky the next day, my father rose with it and by the time I had...

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