Eggs Like White Eggs [Finished!]

[Bee]

It had occurred to her at some point this morning that there was something fundamental missing from her life. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t happiness. It was, she concluded at last, eggs. Yes. Round little eggs, the kind of chickens. No other eggs would do. She stared at her icebox and thought about how it could be improved both aesthetically and spiritually from eggs.

Eggs. She thought more about the eggs. I’m going to get them now, she thought. Yes. The eggs. But who should she take to the store? It had to be someone she could count on. A trip to the store was fraught with danger.

Who could deal with people who claimed that their eggs were organic? Were not all eggs organic? People were organic. Many things on earth were. Thalia did not like this sly advertising.

Who else but Iskra? Her trusted friend and partner. There was no one more suited to join her in a quest for eggs.

Eggs.

[Dark]

Iskra laid in the sun. Iskra enjoyed laying in the sun. The sky was very blue. Looking at the blue sky, Iskra considered where she was. On the rooftop. In the city. In the world. She closed her eyes and imagined this.

As she imagined this under the blue sky, her good friend Thalia came to her. A proposition was made. A proposition of a journey. A journey for eggs.

Iskra considered the ramifications of this journey. What meaning would these eggs have in her life? What significance? The eggs would change where she was, certainly; would she ever make it back to this rooftop, under the blue sky?

The sky was very blue up on the rooftop. In the city. In the world. She saw a bird in the distance, the black shape of a bird. She wondered what kind of bird it was. Chickadee, sparrow, crow? Each had significance. The black bird shape in the blue, blue sky.

Yes. Let us go.

[Bee]

Thalia was very glad that Iskra had agreed to join her on the journey for eggs. She was almost afriad Iskra would say no. The sun was so bright. Iskra liked being warm, in the bright sun. She was a gecko. They liked the sun. Such was the physiology of reptiles.

I appreciate this thing that you are doing for me, she said, earnestly, voice a bubble of earnestness. A bubble that wafted away into the blue, blue sky, to fly with the black bird-shapes. There were no clouds in the sky. She wished there were, so she could pluck meaning from their shapes. Perhaps a storm would roll in later, and provide her with shades of grey in the clouds that were not yet there. She did not know. It was not her place to speculate on the weather.

But there was a pertinent question to be asked.

Where are the best eggs?

[Dark]

The market, I would imagine, Iskra answered speculatively. The market was a good place to find many things. At times you would find things you needed, or perhaps thought you needed, or perhaps just something you wanted, despite what was good for you. At other times you might discover something entirely unexpected. These things discovered could be both good and bad.

Eggs. Iskra imagined the eggs--smooth, white, curving shapes, pleasing to the eye and touch—and could only perceive them as good. Perspective, though, could alter that. For some, the eggs were harbingers of discomfort, illness, and possible death. Iskra considered this; perspective and experience could completely alter ones view of something so innocuous as an egg. This was a startling revelation.

These thoughts occupied her mind as the blue, blue sky was replaced with the multi-colored roofs of the stalls that comprised the marketplace. Such a busy place, the marketplace.

[Bee]

Thalia was a social person who fed off the excitement of others. Thus she enjoyed the marketplace. There were people everywhere. There were people at the shops, walking through the streets. Perhaps some were ducking around corners, looking for hapless shoppers to pickpocket. Cities were nests of crime no matter how one sliced them. Even under such a blue, blue sky, people were stealing.

People like Thalia. Thalia had not even noticed they’d passed a place selling eggs until she realized she had a couple dozen in her tentacles. She stared a moment at these eggs. With her Hair she opened the box and examined them.

They were perfect eggs. Her instincts had guided her well. She closed the lid on the box of eggs. Her tentacles lifted them back into a secure curl. The eggs were safe. Their mission was complete.

Well, Thalia said. I guess we can head back, unless you need something.

[Dark]

No, Iskra replied, nothing I can think of. Iskra wasn’t particularly social; she didn’t enjoy the bustling crowds. The bustling, churning crowds were in much too great a hurry. She enjoyed the distance offered by her rooftop. Up on her rooftop, under the blue, blue sky, things tended to slow down. And down below the bustling, churning crowds could hurry on their way. Down below her rooftop, they didn’t disturb her.

They walked out of the market, back under the blue, blue sky with their parcel of eggs. Thalia seemed pleased with the acquisition. Iskra was pleased that Thalia was pleased. Though, she questioned the nature of the thievery; they had perfectly good coins in their pockets. What was the difference between this and that?

But now it was time to leave the bustling, churning crowd; time to return to her rooftop. Iskra wondered what had changed while she was away. In herself, and up on the rooftop, under the blue, blue sky.