Letter to the Editor

My Dearest Egg,

We, your readers, do certainly understand the insane undertaking of writing you have knocked off in the last week. Believe us, we do. But we, your readers, do just the same long for new content on your blog. It has been so long...please, please, if you can see it in your heart to throw us as bone, it would make our collective day.

Thank you,

A Concerned Reader



Dear Concerned Reader,

My sincere apologies to you. It is true that much writing has been churned out in my name these past few weeks. I'm afraid I must confess, however, that my creative team produced this work (out of necessity) in my absence.

It has not been easy these last few weeks, as I was, without my consent, removed from my chair. It is difficult for me to tell you where I was placed, but I must face these ghosts of the past in order to move on: I was placed in the refrigerator. In an all but empty egg carton--there was one other egg, but he had since lost his mind. As the horrific act took place, I tried to protest...but I have no hands. I tried to explain...but I have no mouth. Thus, I sat in a cold, dark (yes, dark, as the refrigerator light only comes on when you open the door), terrifying prison. I was unconscious from fear and fatigue by the time I was returned to my chair. I wish I could thank the angel who discovered my absence and corrected the dire situation, but I merely remember a warm hand and a gentle smile.

Your egg is now back in the chair. A touch wiser, and a pinch more cynical than before. I feel I must remind everyone with increased fervor: please, please, don't sit down. Or move me. Ever.

The Egg