How to Cook an Egg?
Part 1
I pull up onto the gravel driveway of Joseph’s country home; he comes out of the front door to greet me. He wears pink marigolds.
“I hope you’re not tidying for my sake” I say to him
“Oh no, I needed to do a spring clean anyway, you just gave me the motivation to get on with it”
“Well I’ll give you a hand if you like?” I offer hoping that he declines… he does.
“I had to bring Barney with me, I hope that’s okay” I point back to my car where Barney’s slobbery excited face looks back at us. Joseph looks over to my car.
“Well he’s here now… as long as he’s housetrained I don’t mind” he doesn’t look too happy at the prospect of having a silly little dog messing up his house. ‘I really should have mentioned the dog before’ I think to myself.
“He’s housetrained, and he’ll really be no trouble… I’ll fetch him”
I get over to Barney and have words with him, with a big lick to my face he promises to be on best behaviour.
Joseph makes us feel very welcome in the guest room, and strangely Barney really does seem to be on best behaviour, he keeps well away from Joseph and doesn’t get in the way at all. At midnight I say goodnight and we retire to our respective rooms. Barney snuggles up at my feet and I quickly fall into a deep slumber.
I awake to a bell sounding to announce breakfast, Joseph calls from downstairs. I glance at my watch
“7:57… is he crazy?” I ask myself as I pull my weary body from the bed. My eyes are hazy.
“Come on Barney, when in Rome…” I look to where he slept at the end of the bed, but he’s not there, he’s not in the room, but the door is slightly ajar.
“Must’ve found his own way downstairs” I say to myself. I throw on some clothes and stumble down the stairs. Joseph is cooking and looks as if he’s been up for hours.
“Here you go, you do like eggs don’t you?” he puts a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of me on the table.
“Yes, I love em” I sit down where he gestures me to, and scan the room.
“Where’s Barney?” I ask
He looks confused.
“Well I haven’t seen him today… I thought he slept in your room”
“He did, but he’s not there now, he must’ve come down here” I stand and call out
“Barney… Barney, where are you” he is nowhere to be seen.
“He must be around somewhere, eat up, he’ll be along in a minute I’m sure” Joseph smiles at me and tugs on my elbow.
“Sit down” he pulls a little harder at my elbow.
“Okay… but he’d usually be here as soon as he smelt breakfast” grudgingly I sit down and force a smile. I start to eat.
“Hmmm Lovely eggs” I remark.
“Organic… from the farm down the road” he tells me…
Something very strange about joseph…. Pink marigolds and breakfast at 7.57 is just wrong! and wheres Barney? maybe smelt the dodgy organic eggs and did a runner!?
Intriguing, very intriguing. If I had a beard I’d be stroking it.
More women writers please.
I love this story Rowetta!
Bring on part 2, it gets more and more elusive!
woop! woop!
The dog is the eggs and she’s eating the dog… I’m sure of it.
More women writers with beards please.
I like the way a piece entitled ‘how to cook an egg’ comes in more than one part. Will there be recipes?
An egg comes in two parts: the YOLK and the WOLK. These are encased in the shell skull.
so will it be in THREE parts? is that what you’re trying to tell us? wowser
henry the whore is an imposter of the most unpleasant kind, the story will be in more than 3 parts. 5 i think?
I never used to think of eggs as something sinister but now I don’t know what to think.
Are the eggs symbolic?
Will the story go in the direction of Hitchcocks ‘the birds’ but with stray cats?
I am intrigued.
Meow.
Give me more, i want to see and feel the ending!
do it do it!
woop! woop!
Having read that, I feel strangely satisfied, as if all I want now is a cocoa and a nap. That story was like going on a long coach journey and coming to an expected destination. Feeling slightly fuzzy, but on the whole pretty happy.
what happened to joseph? did he adopt the cats? Or did he and Barney become one being?
who knows what happened !
it’s all from a crazy dream i had, i felt quite disturbed when i woke up from it and the only thing that made me feel any better was to write it all down. i had to fill in all the fuzzier bits and make it a bit more coherent.
Should i continue to use dreams to write stories???
I really enjoyed reading this story, it made me laugh during prayer.
Good story. Perhaps you could turn it in to a childrens book.
Though the thought of eating that many eggs makes me feel slightly ill.
meow, meow, meow