There was some shell in the egg. This was known before the spoonful of such entered mouth. Hardly a hesitation towards a future known crunch, or a notorious disharmony of silky yolk. Time happening. When the almost entirely calcium carbonate; semipermeable membrane; caused traction among enamel, admittedly several seconds after the thought of when the feeling would arrive-there wasn’t anything bad about it- the crunch. Right about now timing schedule, leaving to partake in re-setting constitutional fibers within cerebral toothpicks.
Considering shell remnants.
Pupil to the written word, thoughts of future action. Avid participation of actual doing. Should one eat the rest of the shell, transcribe ‘she proceeded to consume the remnants of shell’ and falter about in experience for the sake of experience. Or, just veer towards maturity, leave the shell, and hope the ocean sings though.
Day job to the rescue.
Simple Simon’s Diary by Gerald Shepherd has me constantly in awe of his knowledgeable pursuits and obvious genius. His work inspired today’s post. Be sure to pop on over and be enlightened.