Egg

8:00 in the morning is chilly and breezy. I pour my soy sauce on the fried egg and go to sit down at the dining table. Wearing my course and dry school uniform scrunched up in my chair while slowly taking bites of my egg. Clink! I put my plate down as my eyelids dragged on the cold tiles.

1:00 in the afternoon is warm and energetic. I eat my fried rice as quickly as possible so my mum doesn’t shout at me at home for not finishing the food she spent her precious time on. 15 minutes on the clock! I run outside as the bell goes to be the first at the handball court (a game using a small ball and four squares, not the real handball) .” QUEENS! “ I shout energetically. Casually pondering over my friends' jealousy and anger.

6:00 in the night is cool and calm. My boiled egg sits there, nice and bathed in freshly prepped sauce from my beloved grandmother. The day goes by swiftly and egg-celently! Seconds later, that egg is gone somewhere! Who knows where it is… It could be in my stomach or the bowl!!

My blanket warms me as I drift slowly off into the night. The soft sound of my dog breathing is amplified by the emptiness of the night.

I wake up to the frustrating weeping of my dog as he requests for the door to be opened so he can be fed by my parents. I slowly roll out of bed into the ice cold morning and open the door. Frozen, I dash back into my warm covers. Only hours later my cycle repeats right for me to eat some more delectable eggs!

The humble egg serves as a constant reminder to me of my parents and grandparents love and care towards me. It gives me motivation to wake up on chilly mornings to be a student. This round object is monumental, forever holding a special place in my heart.