I slept late, having no impetus to rise.

Mother had usually heckled us out of bed

at the crack of dawn, so this was a rare

freedom. William was up, sitting at the

breakfast table, looking disconsolate.

Nat, there’s no cereal, and the milk’s

gone sour. I checked our funds. I told

William to go and buy some eggs and

fresh milk. He leapt up, and was gone. I

didn’t want to dwell on our misfortune,

so I brewed some black tea, which I

sipped at thoughtfully. When William

returned, two of the eggs were cracked.

I said nothing. I went to the stove, and

scrambled up some breakfast. We ate

together, until we were comfortably full.

Author: Robert James Berry

Poet & Novelist

34 thoughts on “Cracked”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *