The egg of loneliness

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
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Submitted: June 18, 2017

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Submitted: June 18, 2017

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The egg of loneliness

 

The lonely man sat in the middle of his lonely room in a lonely darkness that set after the sun had gone down. His only friend was a bald, beige egg, which he held firmly with his thin fingers. He stared at it with wide eyes. “Oh egg, I wallow in self-pity, for only you apprehend the extent that are my sorrows”, he said in a voice that reminded of an endless battle with a sore throat. “We’re similar, my friend”, he then assumed “you lost your buddies when they were killed by this monstrous being you call the man in front of you. So what is it that keeps you from withering like I am right now? How can you live through this agony?” He couldn’t find the answer to his own question and the egg, speechless as it seemed, couldn't find it either so his expression turned into anger towards the helpless egg. “Do you know what you mean to me? Out of all the eggs in the carton that came along with you, I chose you to be my company. I let you live and you forsake me in return? As though you could best me, your God, in this game of life!” The man stood up rapidly and pressed his two hands together. His lower arm tendons were shown. His lean naked body began to tremble. The egg in between his claws finally cracked after great effort. His bloodshot eyes pressed out tiny tears which slid down his cheeks and landed on the ground making a dull sound, but the sound was drowned by his nervous breathing, which then was the only thing you could hear in that room. Like a father who lost his own child, he stood perplexed. He lost the only thing he had control of. And when he had realized that, insanity took over. He slowly neared the window, opened it and let himself fall towards the ground. With his arms extended he waited for the end, but the fall seemed endless.


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