Short Story / Egg In The Basket

Egg In The Basket – Krista Nelson
June 5, 2009
Inspired by my pal Joe Friend’s work Misanthropy Revisited posted on Urbis.com

I was almost to work and I knew I didn't have anything to eat the egg-in-the-basket with, but I kept thinking about how the butter browned just right to toast the bread just right and the Munster and Cheddar cheeses that I melted on the bread with egg frying in the center after flipping had just the right yellow and orange swirl of colors. The cut out disks of bread had toasted to that perfect color of yum. I had taken it off the heat at just the right time so the yolk while cooked would still be runny. The radio was on and the BBC news hour was featuring European critics of the Euro and the rain was falling and the traffic was light and finally at a stop I opened my Tupperware container and lifted one of these perfect egg-in-the-baskets up and out and up to my face and since I had at one time been a traveling sales rep and had eaten everything out of my lap while driving a car, I figured I could eat this egg-in-the-basket as well. True, I didn’t even have a napkin and one bite into it I cold see how the salt and butter were going to be all over my hand. I folded a corner to take a bite of the melted cheese and egg white and went a little further breaking the egg yolk and worked hard, eyes on the road, to lap it up as fast as it ran up and out of the bread like a golden butterscotch volcano not truly erupting just flowing warm and luscious. Another bite and wham! Egg yolk all over the place. My chin, my hand, my shirt, the seat belt, the car. No napkin, no wet wipe. No shame. I finished it off along with as much of the spill as possible, touching plastic with yolk drops, touching metal with yolk drops, touching my sweat shirt where yolk slowly seeped into the cloth then sticking my fingertips into my mouth and I never put finger tips that have touched anything other than food into my mouth. Just ask the friend who tried to keep me up half the night playing a game of “if you trust me, you’ll let me put my finger in your mouth”. I had to punch him to make him stop. Something about the egg. It was the gold I guess that had me. I considered putting my hand and face out the car window to rinse and then eat the second egg-in-the-basket still nestled in the Tupperware container. I didn't rinse. I didn’t go for the second piece. I resigned myself to simply getting into work and cleaning up. I would put the second piece on a plate and eat it properly.


I felt badly about the egg all over the place. They say that what you focus on you make more of and suddenly I was aware of other troubles. I had only my hoodie to keep my head dry and the rain was falling harder. I gave the last non-broken umbrella to one of my daughters as she left for school. As I rounded the last corner along the path to my place of work, I saw another umbrella-less hooded figure hesitate up ahead, looking to see who I was. He held the door for me as I approached. I couldn’t make him out until I was right up on top of him, rain speckled glasses clouding my vision and all. Turned out to be a colleague I’d rather impress than repulse soaking wet with egg on my face. Ok it was actually my boss. He asked me how things were going as he slid his hood back and suddenly looked very different with his hair pushed to a side it isn’t usually pushed to. I pulled my hood back too and answered with a comment about parenting not being overwhelming. This made him laugh for I sounded completely overwhelmed; he just didn’t know all the other reasons why. I probably should have made reference to work and impressed him with a Willie Nelson twisted "it’s always on my mind” attitude but I really was consumed with upcoming plans for my children and the egg-in-the-basket of course. I wasn’t brave enough to reveal my yolk covered stupidity. I opted for perpetual parental anxiety instead. We were covered with rain, so talk of the weather would have been down right cowardly.

Once inside, I popped the second egg-in-the-basket in the microwave then ducked quickly into the bathroom to clean up. My hoodie-pulled hair rendered my cover-the-gray hairstyle all gray uncovered. I brushed it this way and that to find the old illusion. I soaked a paper towel and dabbed at the dried yolk spots and while the water seemed to vanish, the spots remained. I decided to take off the sweatshirt. I had a t-shirt on underneath. Then I found out where all the water had gone. Like a nursing mother overflown, the image transported me instantly back to the days when I struggled to have the healthiest, breast-milk baby and a seat in corporate America. I was emerging from public bathrooms with a jar of freshly pumped, learning the importance of vests and layers when too many mid-day thoughts of the baby, produced shirt soaked announcements. I kept the sweatshirt on and dabbed the spots until they faded. Lucky for me I work with an ambiance-conscious group. We worked by the light of iny, pink lights the size of silver dollars, no much bigger, more like the size of the toast disks cut from the bread to leave a hole for the egg of my egg-in-the baskets. Like Xmas decorations all year long, we soften the harsh realities of people starving and without shelter. Our business is poverty reduction and we are all well paid when the economy is better and we’re not taking pay cuts to keep everyone on board. Our special extravagance is to mark celebrations with a bakery purchased carrot cake so moist it would be dripping if it weren't thick with brown-sugar encrusted pineapple chunks and dark raisins. There's always this chocolate cake too that appears. I don't eat it because I am allergic to chocolate and so I can't say too much about how it's better than pudding, frosting, or mouse and how it's got the texture of whipped fudge, cool and dark and hard to stop shoveling in before you do the plate licking. We bond by eating cake that someone sings over, blows their breath over when candles are lit and talks and sweats over while making office break cut-the-cake small talk.

I set the microwave time oven for too long. I rushed from the bathroom to pull out the bubbling cheesy bread and egg, transformed and inedible; not really. I couldn't find a fork, but at least this time I had a plate and napkins and a sink.

It started with cartoons. I never watch them; well I never watch them during the week, in the morning, before work. The cartoon was Word Girl and I was in heaven. I laid back happy hearing new vocabulary words spoken in wobbly children’s’ voices that I couldn’t understand. I’m pretty sure one boy announced a word he then defined as the state of enjoying farting. I must have heard wrong. I could however make out a couple of good grown up jokes that the best cartoons are peppered with. To top it off there was a pet chimp that ate anything the villain butcher threw at him. Pepperoni, sausages, chicken parmesan. Is it any wonder I was inspired to make something good for breakfast? Chocolate milkshake are on the mind now. Perhaps I ate breakfast with my hands as a tribute to early cartoon mornings when speech was new, nothing was clearer than a love for egg-in-the-basket and fingers in mouths and food on the face were not repulsive.

Sopping up the last of the egg with the bread it was cooked in, I am quite certain that that was the very best egg-in-the-basket I have had in a very long time. Maybe it started with my friend coming by last night and all that whispering in the dark that ensued like childhood sleep-over but with uglier pajamas. I woke up happy, sleepy, hungry and now I’m going to sit back and pour a cup of tea brewed right at my desk. I hope I don't knock the tea onto my keyboard. If I’m not careful I may fall into a mess of paper and pens and a celebration of the time before desktops.
 

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karrina avatar General Stranger

July 18, 2009

karrina

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karrina reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item
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Allen_Grier avatar General Stranger

July 17, 2009

Allen_Grier

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Allen_Grier reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

A very good short story. I didn’t see many mistakes. But then again, I don’t generally read a story the first time to check for errors. You kept my interest! Hope you find a publisher! Good luck!

Lady_Eternity avatar General Stranger

July 16, 2009

Lady_Eternity

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Lady_Eternity reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

The style wasn’t something I generally go for, but I thought it sounded pretty good and did a good job at inspiring my imagination through your delightful use of descriptions.

SM_Worsey avatar General Stranger

July 16, 2009

SM_Worsey

REVIEW QUALITY: 0.0%(1 vote ) personal info reviewer stats
SM_Worsey reviewed Version 1 - Read 60% of the Item

This is too meandering for me. After a promising start, it flows around all over the place trying to cover a very wide-ranging thought process and I personally didn’t want to read to the end because I found it too difficult to focus on the narrator and who they are, what they want, what’s happening in their life etc. My personal view would be to reign it in a bit and give it a bit more focus.

jthorn28 avatar General Stranger

July 16, 2009

jthorn28

REVIEW QUALITY: 0.0%(1 vote ) personal info reviewer stats
jthorn28 reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

I felt the story was well written, and that goes a long way.  The story also had good insight into the mundane, taxing, frustrating moments that we all have to go through in life.  It also made me hungry.  Pretty good, but overall sort of middle of the road for me.

Scarlett_156 avatar General Friend

July 02, 2009

Scarlett_156

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Scarlett_156 reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

This is really a fine piece of writing here. :)

Though your subject is homely and mundane, the narrative sparkles, bubbles, and sings. It overflows with warm humanity, an exultant voice that speaks to us richly of that happiness that only SEEMS rare because we so seldom really have it, but which is nonetheless accessible to all.

In the last few sentences the question of what exactly has made this “just another” day so remarkable for the protagonist is answered:

--Maybe it started with my friend coming by last night and all that whispering in the dark that ensued like childhood sleep-over but with uglier pajamas. I woke up happy, sleepy, hungry and now I’m going to sit back and pour a cup of tea brewed right at my desk.--

—a punch line delivered with the expertise of a seasoned stand-up comic, but in spite of all that technical ability so evident in every line, we never have trouble believing that this is an “ordinary” person we’re watching, whose thoughts we’re listening to as she starts “just another day”. She’s obviously not a person most of us would look at twice, but simply unique, warm, and intelligent the way so many “ordinary” people are.

This scene:

--I wasn’t brave enough to reveal my yolk covered stupidity. I opted for perpetual parental anxiety instead. We were covered with rain, so talk of the weather would have been down right cowardly--

--with the protagonist and her boss is quite outstanding. She’s not lost in her own specialness even on this special day, but still aware of others and their problems, needs, and quirks; one gets the impression that there’s no way this heroine can NOT be connected to everyone around her. When she doing the musing about the cakes and how office people interact over cakes--same thing. She’s a regular person, a mother, a working stiff, not rich, not privileged. She’s realistic about how she looks (“My hoodie-pulled hair rendered my cover-the-gray hairstyle all gray uncovered”)—she is neither narcissistic nor fatalistic, but a human being making the most of a few hours of joy, in her words, “celebrating”.

Again, the artistry with which this simple tale is constructed is only evident in the vibrant narration; the reader has to look carefully to find the really marvelous work, the REAL work, that went into this writing. For example:

After the second or third reading, I found myself wondering whether perhaps the protagonist was a little TOO bubbly and cheerful for my personal liking. “Maybe not realistic, after all…” I mused. “Who’s going to handle getting a mess like that all over themselves while driving, on the way to work, in the rain?”

But then I read it again, and here’s:

--They say that what you focus on you make more of and suddenly I was aware of other troubles. I had only my hoodie to keep my head dry and the rain was falling harder…--

Somehow--and I’m not entirely sure how you do this--she does not cross that line into sugary sweetness.

And this sequences sets up the encounter with her boss, which humanizes him, makes him real, too. It’s all real, this is a real person, these are real people, the setting is real, the drive to work is real, the lovingly-described “egg in a basket” is real.

It’s all real and it’s all “the color of yum”...! :D

I first read this piece a few days ago and I have to admit that it made me jealous. I can’t write stuff like this to save my life; with me stuff has to be weirdness, all full of kinks, flaws, and blemishes, if I am to be able to think of anything interesting to say about it. I consider that a problem with my writing, something I need to work on.

Here is one little thing that I thought didn’t quite fit:

--Is it any wonder I was inspired to make something good for breakfast? Chocolate milkshake are on the mind now.--

—because you say earlier that she’s allergic to chocolate. (Also, it should be “milkshakes are”, not “milkshake are”. Aside from that and one or two typos, however, I can’t find anything else that is wrong.

I hope this review is useful to you. Good luck!

~ yours in Chaos, Scarlett

Deadsage avatar General Stranger

June 25, 2009

Deadsage

REVIEW QUALITY: 0.0%(1 vote ) personal info reviewer stats
Deadsage reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

This was vivid, and the style is fun and very lively.  I liked that aspect.  I could taste and smell the food especially.  I could see the actions and feel the emotions of your character somewhat.  Environmental descriptions were pretty weak.

I know Hemingway loved to use “and” in place of punctuation occasionally, but 9 uses of “and” in one sentence (this sentence “The radio was on and…”)is too much.  Your comma usage gets out of hand later on.  This piece could use some serious punctuation reform.

“I [could] see how the salt and butter ” -wrong word

“touching my [sweatshirt] ” -one word

“light of [tiny], pink lights ” -typo

“I set the microwave time oven for too long… transformed and inedible; not really.” -this didn’t work for me.  Either it is transformed or it isn’t.  Later you have this same egg described as “Sopping up the last of the egg with the bread it was cooked in… was the very best egg-in-the-basket I have had in a very long time.” -that doesn’t sound the least bit overcooked.  Especially if the yolk still needs to be sopped. maybe you expected to find it overcooked, but were happy that it wasn’t?

“wobbly [children’s] voices that” -too many apostrophe

AnimusLight avatar General Stranger

June 25, 2009

AnimusLight

REVIEW QUALITY: 100.0%(1 vote ) personal info reviewer stats
AnimusLight reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

“browned just right to toast the bread just right” ..Repetitive.  You can write it “browned in order to toast..” and that’ll sound better.

“touching plastic with yolk drops, touching metal with yolk drops, touching my sweat shirt where yolk slowly seeped into the cloth then sticking my fingertips into my mouth and I never put finger tips that have touched anything other than food into my mouth.”  This section is repetitive, too.  I understand you’re attempting to use an anaphoric device, but I think the spacing’s too far apart to really get that effect.  It could be as simple a change as “Yolk drops touched plastic, touched metal, touched my sweat shirt and slowly seeped into..”  The end of this paragraph, though, is superbly written.

”...last non-broken umbrella”  ”unbroken”

“a Willie Nelson twisted”  Confusing.  Write “a twisted Willie Nelson…”  Works out better.

The story is well-written, except that I find it awkward how you start out in the past-tense, but end in a very definitive present-tense.  The switch off threw me for a loop.

creativemind avatar General Stranger

June 24, 2009

creativemind

REVIEW QUALITY: 100.0%(1 vote ) personal info reviewer stats
creativemind reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

I really liked this story. It’s different than most things I have read before. I really liked the details about the egg. My favorite part was when it was time to clean up the egg and there wadn’t a napkin or anything. good job.

c2darad avatar General Stranger

June 24, 2009

c2darad

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c2darad reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

This story made me really, really hungry. I really liked it. I liked how it wasn’t about anything extraordinary, just an average person’s morning where they happen to catch themselves feeling happy. It seemed like the woman was in the UK, but then she makes a comment about how she struggled for a seat in Corporate America. Maybe a tranplant from the UK? The only thing I didn’t really like was the sentence: Okay, it was my boss. It just didn’t fit. The language didn’t sound the same. Why not just say it was her boss to begin with?

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knelson

Age: 49
Loc: Philadelphia, PA
Gen: F
Last Login: August 06
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