"What's wrong?" your lizard friend asks. He patters towards you over the branch. "You look like you were in a state of shock. Like you'd seen a hawk."
"Naw," you reply. "It's nothing."
The two of you crawl down the tree. The bark is thick and your claws dig deep into the wood. For a moment, you feel like you will fall to the ground, but your instinct takes over and soon you have no trouble scaling the tree down to the mossy forest floor.
You stretch out on a lower branch, above where ripe fruit had fallen and began to ferment on a pile of leaves. Insects swarm over the sweet aromas of fruit baking in the sun. It is easy pickings. When your belly is full, you and your friend crawl back up the tree, bathing in the sun.
"I had a strange dream," you finally admit.
"That I was a...a human."
"A furless ape monster?"
"It was horrible."
"Did you speak?"
You shudder. "Worse," you admit. "I stared at screens all day. And I was hungry, starving, because I owed money." You begin trying to explain the intricacies of debt servicing, of interest rates, of the function of debt as a mechanism to keep the proletariat docile and submissive, of the superabundance of bullshit jobs under a moribund neoliberal capitalist world order. Your friend grows tired, and you stop, realizing he'd fallen asleep.
You realize it was a dream. A bad dream. The sun light is warm. You're green scales blend in beautifully with the green leaves of the tree. You stretch and take another nap.