I walked to the top of Bernal Heights and spied a coyote. I watched him amble across the hill and join a second coyote that had been hidden in the grass. No one else seemed to see them. I’m never the first to notice animals on hikes. Yet here I was, the only one watching them.

The way Sheherezade tells it, a djinn turned me into an octopus. I stretched my tentacles each to their limit, flailing, feeling for something to tell me the color and texture of my skin. Another way Sheherezade tells it, that’s how I disappeared.

Sometimes, I wonder if I reached so…


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