look, there’s an egg in a book
March 17, 2009
Two years ago I saw a call for submissions on Craigslist: a book for 20-something struggles. I was struggling. I wrote a scrappy essay. Then I spent the afternoon taking artsy black and white pictures of a broken egg in the sunshine. Um, yes. I did. I do these things, sometimes. Don’t ask why. I can’t remember if I ate the egg afterward. I was pretty hungry in those days. But I had stuck my finger in it to make the eggshell just right, and to change the shape of the goop so it caught the flicker of light. Eating the egg would be kind of gross, after all that poking.
I’m a little embarrassed.
And now, I’m told, the essay and/or the picture are in this book: Quarter Passed. Gulp. Who knows what it looks like, this embryo of my youth.
