“i don’t have any eggs,” he said aloud to himself – he was still sitting on the couch. he was very surprised by the revelation. his scrambled egg house of cards came crashing down on him
“there are no eggs in this house,” he said
there had never been an egg in the house. he liked to eat eggs but he didn’t like to have them in the house. it was one of his quirks. when he ate eggs it was almost always in a restaurant.
there was no logical reason why he did not have eggs in the house. it was just that he felt slightly uncomfortable when they were there. also, he did not like to buy eggs. something about the cartons put him off and he did not like the fact that they came in dozens.
when he ordered eggs in a restaurant there were just two of them. that was a controllable number of eggs to his thinking. two eggs were not a commitment. they were just something to eat and enjoy.
a dozen eggs were a different matter.
they were twelve eggs.
that was just too many eggs to think about at one time.
after all, he had just so much time in life to think about eggs, and twelve eggs occupied too much time, so he preferred not to have that many eggs in the house.
he got up and went to the kitchen anyway, looking for eggs, even though he knew that he didn’t have any. he would use up a little time. there was nothing better to do.
he opened up the refrigerator and looked inside.
“no eggs there,” he said
– richard brautigan