Nina stared through the cold, dirty window of her prison. If only she could escape and find her way back to Florida again, she and Felipe could be together. It seemed half her life had been spent trying to get back to him, to be back in his room-temperature, scaly embrace. Her bosom heaved at the memory: his head, flirtatiously bobbing atop the fence, the first shy unfurling of his throat fan. If only she could figure out how to defeat the magical, invisible force which confined her!
Her vision blurred with tears as she made herself a promise: the next time crickets were delivered, she'd make a break for it. But where to go from there? Florida and Felipe were far away, and it was far too cold for an unassisted anole to travel on her own.
Unless she learned how to drive. . . .
(Heh. Lizard bosoms.)