Please do not
make fun of
the words
I used in Scrabble—
vain
stupid
omelet—
as they are better
than my usual
3-letter fare.
The next morning,
at the diner,
the omelet upon
my plate said,
“I’m the most ravishing
thing in here by far,
and I care not one fig
if I don’t know the
capital of California
or the sum of two plus two,
for I am about to die
a most beautiful death
upon this plate.”
😁👍
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There’s nothing quite like an omelet on your plate
Waxing eloquent like Charles Dickens’ Sydney Carton
About his impending fate.
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I wasn’t familiar with Sydney Carton, so I had to look him up — and now I’m impressed with that egg. Thanks for stopping by and giving a solid literary reference.
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What the… I did not know where this was going, and did not see the eggs on the plate talking to me. But talk to me they did. They really did.
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You never know with eggs… or anything else, for that matter. I just finished reading Phillip K. Dick’s “Ubik,” in which a door demands payment of a nickel for it to be opened.
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And isn’t that what we all want in the end—a beautiful death?
I wonder how Hannibal Lector might serve me up…hmm.
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What a thought! And I’m not sure if Hannibal enjoys a fine Chianti with all of his special meals 🙂
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I see him as a wine man, and as long as it’s red and expensive, I think he’d be happy. 🙂
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Haha! I agree. A tasty one. 🙂
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Thanks 🙂
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