Sitting in a field of green, otherwise known as an Egg Salad, one egg said in a pleasingly reflective and resigned manner, ” I always wanted to be a chicken when I grew up”, “Well, you never did grow up did you” said his more sarcastic cousin, only ‘The Great Selected’ go on and produce eggs of their own”. “The Great Selected” they both said in voices of resigned but wondrous reverence: a progress far beyond the imaginings of the average egg.
Beside, and slightly under them if we seek precision, a leaf of lettuce said, “I wanted to star in my own show”. “Failed” said both the eggs in glorious and insensitive unison, and the lettuce visibly wilted under their combined scorn. The more pushy egg could not leave it there and added, “It is called an EGG salad and not a Lettuce salad I hope you know, and at least we are whole eggs. I mean where is the rest of you; you’re almost naked.”
“Oh be fair now” said the kinder Egg, “She does have a light dressing on, if you can call tomatoe ketchup a dressing”. “Well, however I’m dressed, we are all destined for ‘The Great Consumption” by an fourteen year old boy, whose mother is trying to get him to lose weight, and still enjoy his meal” said the Leaf, which had been on the plate longer than the eggs, and picked up some of the pre-meal inter-generational negotiations. Both eggs rolled around slightly, because even though they were not among, “The Great Selected” they had an instinctive wariness when it came to tackling adolescents: a wariness shared by parents of all species apparently, excepting, turtles, whose timeless wisdom was revered by all who understood the secrets of slow-motion.
This did not include, one Sheldon Bragg, currently fourteen years old, and bored by a diet of healthy food and parental disapproval: he looked at his salad without enthusiasm. Suddenly the world seemed to spin and swirl around them as the surprised occupants of the plate were slipped into the trash can to join the survivors of a Chinese take away, and a ball of dust from the weekend vacuuming. “Finished” they heard the boy lie, but all else was lost to them as the lid closed. “Saved against all odds” said the cheerier egg, and certainly there was an atmosphere of bewildered celebration from one end of the bin to the other: this was the life indeed.
After a period of reflection, some small speck from the vacuuming dust piped up saying “I used to be Napoleon, you know: well part of him anyway: a bit of his kneecap if I remember”,
“Oh shut up”, said Grumpy Egg, don’t start boasting about past lives, or we’ll never hear the end of it”, but it was too late for that. Molecules of every ancestry began boasting of connections with the ‘greats’ of history across a wide number of species and devices. Napoleon who had already had his allocated mention, and isn’t that always the case, might have been less flattered by the knowledge that a particle of his being now resided within the bruise on a small tomato, currently sharing its memories of the good old days with his dust bag relative, but other claims were more obscure. Some piece of fuse wire, peering across at the lettuce leaf seemed to have the instinctive belief, that a particle of that lettuce leaf was a bit of Cynthia Paxton, the love of his life when he was John Carpenter some centuries before: would he be recognised? He kept his eye on her and prayed that at the next ‘Great Fusing’ they finally and truly, might become ‘one.’
Oh, my dear Mr. Ducks! As a person who greatly loves his repast, how can you eat merrily now with these wild conversations occupying your plate!
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Ear plugs and greed are the only successful strategies. Even then the ancestry of your meal might well produce discomforting thoughts
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As one who has lived in the dust bin of life himself…I totally related to this story. Lettuce give thanks for your storytelling.
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I loved your comment, and it made me laugh out loud. I could go on about it, but I haven’t mushroom for rambling I’m told ( Apologies on behalf of the Pun Dept )
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That’s Karma for you. Cleverly written.
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Thank you. I’m glad you liked it
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I ought to know by now not to read your posts while I’m drinking my coffee! Chortle and snortle! brilliant – as usual-
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Mind you. Who or what was your coffee a few centuries ago. You might have had a whiff of Attila the Hun in there.
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Indeed 😀
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Love it. And am in awe of the secrets of slow motion.
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They are the essence of wisdom and tolerance I believe
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Indeed
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You and your sense of humour are priceless Peter!! You have excelled yourself with this quirky story and turned my day around, which started off at a very low ebb, and now I have tears of laughter in great rivulets running down my face 😊 Thank you for saving my day – onwards and upwards now for me!!
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Giving you a bit of a lift and a laugh is a an excellent way for anyone to spend their time, and it pleases me that I do
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Truly amusing! I’ll never think of food in the same way again.
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🙂 Lovely story. Eggs have feelings to you know!
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I know, poor things, I am always gentle with them, but you know what they say about scrambled eggs etc. It can be a hard life, if not a hard boiled life
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🙂
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Brilliant!!!
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Always so nice to see a comment from you. I hope things are going well your end
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😀 I prefer my meals keep quiet, but this was an egg-cellent tale.
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I was walking on egg shells myself, in case I disturbed anyone,
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I refuse to lower the standard of your wonderful story by cracking an egg pun. Brilliant!
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They have been getting a bit of a hammering poor chaps
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Oh what a precocious child you must have been! You imagination is amazing.
b
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Very witty and original! Loved it 🙂
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Hidden lives in the lettuce. Who knew?
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Eggscellent (see what I did there, but badly?) – there’s so little of this type of writing out there now, sadly, so it’s nice to see you! Generally, this type of humour is now consigned to the back-of-the-fridge of history. I’ll stop now…
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And there was I considering egg salad for lunch!!
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That was so very entertaining! Now I am in a quandary seeing as it’s the middle of the night here, should I rest or should I try to read as many of your posts as I can squeeze in before falling asleep on the keyboard? Should I eat something now or can that wait until tomorrow – it does take quite a bit of time but it would delay sleep somewhat and I don’t remember breakfast or lunch or dinner. All this talk of “egg-salad” sandwiches doesn’t exactly whet the appetite and here I was thinking I had nothing in common with a 14yo boy. Perhaps I should move the computer to the bedroom. Decisions, decisionsssss…zzz..zz
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Heh, great stuff — this reminds me of the wise words of a high school physics teacher who used to remind the class that, every time we drink water, we are with almost 100% certainty drinking the urine of a dinosaur.
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Very entertaining! Wonderful opening, Peter: ‘Sitting in a field of green, otherwise known as an Egg Salad …’ This is an animation in words – would make a great visual animation, too!
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this was delicious in so many ways!
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