Some people say that there is a world unimaginable to the vast majority of humans. It is the world where the changes of life take place so slowly that it seems an unpopulated, immobile, dry, unlivable space. These are the sacred spaces, reserved for telluric energies. Near the spaces where nothingness predominates there are microscopic, imperceptible spaces, where millions of beings live with whom we cannot -we do not know if for better or for worse- relate.

But there are minuscule worlds that seem specially made to train our capacity to be amazed. From that scale, a number of underworlds open up before human eyes that renew themselves and fill the spaces of life with fantastic beings.

In the minimal world, not in the minuscule, not in the microscopic, not in the imperceptible, but in the world of minimal beings, lives a gecko about whom a biography could be written. Her name is Glecka Lagartand she is part of a large family that, while sharing the same human dwelling, maintains a certain independence with respect to its particular spaces.

When Glecka hatched, on the same day as her nine siblings, her father and mother occupied the ample and generous space between the wall and the back of a tall cabinet in the kitchen of the human house.

To the top of the cabinet, facing the ceiling, the mother gecko took her offspring when they were two weeks old. There she gave them precise instructions so that they would learn to remain unnoticed for most of their lives. They were to remain vigilant. As long as there was sunlight, they could not climb the walls, nor venture down to the floor to pick up the succulent crumbs. They were never to be trusted. Geckos are born with a translucent, almost transparent skin that protects them from many eyes but does not free them from the cat's gaze.

That was the moment when the mama gecko alerted them to the apparent indifference, with respect to the surrounding world, of the house cat.

"We must be vigilant, my children, let us not be fooled by the cat. Its eyes, so similar to ours, can be our undoing."

The truth is that the animals of the minimal world mature very quickly and in a very short time, Glecka, who had always shown a very independent temperament, wanted to move behind a colorful painting that adorned the living room of the human house. That decision marked her life.

She took her treasures with her. A string of colorful beads, which she had collected in the rare space where the lost things of the human houses will fall, never to be recovered again. All the beings of the minimal world could access that place of treasures if they were, like Glecka, curious about objects other than food scraps from the kitchen. She also loaded up with scraps of flowery fabrics that she found on her nightly excursions around the house.

Arriving at the colorful painting in the living room where she would henceforth live Glecka took to observing the encounters between the humans.

She watched as the woman of the house attended, always dressed in beautiful colors, to her guests. She listened to the rhythm of the unintelligible human slang. From a distance she paid attention to the expressions that accompanied the simple sounds of laughter and was able to differentiate, among everything she saw, what the joy of life consisted of.

The joie de vivre resonated with Glecka, who thought of herself, in tune with human tastes, as a very special lizard. She enjoyed music. She learned to identify different moods that she associated with different melodies. One day, watching the hostess move to the rhythm of soft music, she felt like imitating her and did so.

Glecka danced, standing on the colorful picture frame, covered with a red cloth patchwork. She was adorned with a beaded necklace that moved with her. Her beautiful big catlike eyes contracted and opened to the rhythm of an unknown emotion. Unable to control it a high, silvery, bell-like sound came from her chest.

" Tac, tac, tac, tac, tac, tac, tac, tac!"

The sound passed over the noises of the living room and reached the ears of the landlady who turned in the right direction and looked at her. Glecka felt not fear but a sort of fascination. Her green gaze sank into the woman's eyes trying to guess her thoughts.

Those were very exciting seconds for Glecka. She understood that in the lady's careful gaze there was a patent certainty. Which did not mean that she could share with others the truth of the fact she was witnessing.

"On the frame of the most important painting in the room dances a geko, dressed like any woman, who looks me straight in the eye and calls to me in a silvery voice."

It was a lot to process. As is often the case, the human preferred to leave the realization of the minimal truth she was witnessing for later. But she felt it would be a shame to forget the precious image she had seen and resorted to a memory device.

"OK, behind the painting lives a gecko. She said to herself, before continuing the conversation with her guests. Somehow Glecka understood the woman's thinking.

She returned to the safety of her space behind the colorful painting in the living room. She felt that a promising future was opening up before her. Her mind filled with images, with desires, as she listened, uncomprehending, to the conversations in the room.