One Red Egg
Is waiting for you on the shelf
Elena rubbed her forehead. It wasn’t her eyes. The egg was real. It stood in the middle of the carton like an abandoned child in a shady glade.
Elena looked at the inscription on the carton. A MAGIC EGG. What the heck? Will these Easter lunacies ever end? Never mind. One would do. Her parents were dead, she didn’t have any siblings, and she didn’t feel like visiting the few friends she still kept in touch with. She would spend Easter at home, and the company of this egg that seemed no less lonely than herself was more than suitable.
On Easter morning, she broke off a piece of the sweet bread she had baked herself and placed the egg on the white plate. Outside, the church bells were ringing, and the coolness of April was slipping into the living room through the open window, caressing her cheeks. Elena held the egg between her fingers. Shall I eat it or leave it in the wooden cup to wait for next Easter, as it is customary?
Elena’s eyes fell on her thin, knurled fingers wrapped around the red eggshell. Her eyes welled up. She would turn forty-seven next month. She was a failure. She never got married and never got to raise a child. She could count her friends on the fingers of one hand. She never fought to realize her professional dreams, and her life was wearing off between grey office walls…
