Whispered to an Egg

I came upon an egg. I had to hold her.

Mary — I wish that were my real name. #eggmode

You can be, Mary.

I might argue that you already are; that you need only give up the pretence, drop the mask, step into the light.

Mary, I might argue, is your real name.

(That ‘only’ is, of course, nonsense — )
It’ll require effort and risk. But so does living undercover and postponing life. Maybe dropping the mask is actually less effort, over less time. Maybe the risk is less — less than giving up your life.

Mary’s life.

Maybe it won’t be so hard. Maybe it’s not such a big change. Maybe it’s only taking the next step: each step a lightening of the hiding. Each step an increment of relief, a little reveal—

Mary, a little more alive.

Maybe all you need do is catch that first glimpse of Mary in the mirror, and all the other steps take themselves.

Mary, you’ve got this.

❤ Allison


This story was inspired by this story, by Maya Marsala.

I make a spare living doing this. You can support my work and get draft previews and my frequent ‘Letters Home’ for less than the cost of a coffee.