Paint Splotches

It's 2:00pm and it's a relatively beautiful day. So why am I sitting here typing away to what seems like nothing? I'm trying so desperately to get back into writing, even if it's about the most mundane things.

From my room is a view of my backyard. My room sits on the second floor overlooking a mostly dead patch of grass and dirt. Surrounding this heap of earth are three foot tall cement walls, separating the grass from a patio and gardener's corner. These walls are the location of wars and love and relaxation and anxiety; these walls are the lizards' world. Everyday I choose to open my blinds, shining the light of day into my bleak and messy bedroom. And each time I sit here, on Facebook, or studying, or watching Prison Break I get the chance to witness life unfold before me. There, on the left corner, a big lizard is chasing a smaller one. Even with short legs, they resemble snakes slithering across concrete waters. I like to imagine that the smaller lizard (Marten) has offended the bigger one (Bubba), possibly moving in on a mate or trying to take over small territories of my backyard.

Marten gingerly steps up to the highest point of the wall, creeping around the forever stuck sprinkler that won't retreat back into the ground.
     "Hey! Where do you think you're going?!"
Bubba spots Marten and races towards him, stopping only a smidgen away from Martens nose.
     "It's not what you think.. I was.. I was just trying to tan!"
     "This is MY tanning area! Find your own pipsqueak!"
Seeing the anger in Bubba's black, beady eyes, Marten squiggles off as fast as he can, over the broken sprinkler and into the grass below. Bubba runs after him, never far behind. All I see are shuffles in the dead grass, every once in a while seeing a tail whip around a flower weed. And then they vanish into the brush.

Poor Marten. I hope he's still alive.