We were young and hot. Not a wisp of cloud above us. The usual cocktail of molecules, atmospheric junk, dust and general fluff which typically floated between us and the sun seemed absent, allowing solar rays to travel across space unfiltered; blasting the sand upon which lay our glistening bods. We pretty much had the entire beach to ourselves, just us and one old dude who was sunbathing across the bay, minding his own business, lobster-red.
We considered swimming to cool off. I noticed the lobster man get dressed and depart the beach, following the solitary narrow path through jungle which led up to the village. Alone at last. Toes dipped in water as clear as the air, Eryn removed her bikini top. We swam.
An old wooden canoe passed nearby, only a few metres away. It was propelled by a man in a three-piece suit, who steadily paddled, dunking a splintered oar into the ocean’s shimmering blue surface. He paused to tip his top hat and wink in our direction before continuing on.
“What the fuck?” Jen said. We watched him disappear around the coast. “Was that weird? That was weird, right?” Jen’s face, hovering just above the water scrunched up. We all saw it, and I suppose it was pretty weird. Then there was the other thing, which was weirder, and which only I would witness. The others decided to swim further out to sea.
“Don’t go too far,” I said, “the currents could be strong.” They told me not to worry.
I floated on my back, looking up at the vacant sky. Tranquillity infused my bones, until I noticed a spot of light above me. I blinked a few times, thinking it might be something in my vision caused by the sun, but it didn’t disappear. The spot grew; it lengthened. After a few seconds it became a faint line in the air, though I couldn’t discern its distance from me. Slowly, the line began to thicken in the middle, then bulge, and then some sort of fingertip appeared as though it was parting the crack in a pair of curtains — except it wasn’t curtains; it was a line in the air above me. As far as I could tell, it was a crack in the fabric of space. Yeah, I know. It continued to bulge, and additional fingertips emerged, with hands that delicately parted the air. Green, scaly hands. My mouth hung open. The green fingers now widened the gap to be as wide as it was long, and what looked like the head of a lizard poked out, directly facing me; above my floating body. At this point I could get a sense of scale, and placed the lizard-person at about three metres away. Its head was about the same size as mine. Therefore, big. It peered around before resting its eyes on me, and put a finger to its mouth while retreating. The gap closed as though it was a zip on a coat.
Floating, I waited for my friends to return.