Yesterday on the way home from church, a lizard fell out of the sky and crashed into my windshield. At first I thought the impact had killed him. But one stoplight later, the 6-inch Godzilla resurrected. Positioning his buggy eyes inches away from my own face, he dug his claws in and glared at me in a bitter yet pleading manner. Apparently he knew that the brutal “execution by windshield wipers” lie at tip of my fingers.
I was more pleased with the situation than he was. It’s hard to maneuver through 4 lanes of city traffic with an angry lizard directly in your line of site. After a few miles of this stare off, Godzilla decided to take matters into his own hands. He tried to leap off the car, but due to the speed of traffic, each leap just resulted into another traumatizing crash back into the windshield. He would leap, I would yelp. He would leap, I would yelp. Meanwhile Nate documented the process on his flip phone.
Finally, our friend made a successful jump over the top of the car and went flying towards the pick-up truck behind us. I don’t know if he lived or not, but the photo is all we have left of his memory.
I was more pleased with the situation than he was. It’s hard to maneuver through 4 lanes of city traffic with an angry lizard directly in your line of site. After a few miles of this stare off, Godzilla decided to take matters into his own hands. He tried to leap off the car, but due to the speed of traffic, each leap just resulted into another traumatizing crash back into the windshield. He would leap, I would yelp. He would leap, I would yelp. Meanwhile Nate documented the process on his flip phone.
Finally, our friend made a successful jump over the top of the car and went flying towards the pick-up truck behind us. I don’t know if he lived or not, but the photo is all we have left of his memory.
