My brother swings open his office door, and a gecko scurries along.

They trade looks.

Briefcase slides off his sweaty palms,

and he sits at the edge of the chair.

What if she jumps on to me?

What if she hangs from the ceiling to fall into my lap?

I still remember that lizard. I must’ve been seven. 

At mid-day, still thumping on the keyboard, he tries to finish as fast as possible.

Occasionally, he gets up to stop his legs from shivering.

The day comes to a close.

He swings the door out to leave.

The gecko reappears.

My brother glances at her.

She stares at him and smiles to herself.

They walk out together.

A productive day, indeed.

Do I hear someone say, “The right company can literally propel our work?”