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I opened the door to find it there again.

  • I opened the door to find it there again. If sofa's could smirk, I'm sure this one would've. I set down my purse and the groceries and addressed the empty air: "Aunt Valetta!"

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  • Of course, Aunt Valetta did not answer, not yet. It floated there insouciantly, the remote control for a TV I did not own, orbited by about $13.87 in change. I kicked off my heels

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  • and sat down on the rusted old box-spring bed. "Alright, then." I said, irritated. "What're you playing at, here? Don't you know that I actually hate

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  • deviled eggs? They're cold, slimy &nasty. Get them away from me now before I..." "I will go away forever if you eat one." "No. No way. I can't!" The bed springs creaked menacingly.

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  • "Okay. How about that: you eat one egg and I will give you one of my ponnies? Maybe even Twinkle Cuddle..." -"Well, I would prefer Aurora, but Twinkle is alright" -"Deal!"

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  • I looked at the egg. I'd eaten hundreds, if not thousands of eggs in my life. But this one was different. This one actually

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  • looked back at me. "See here now, ya mug," it said, (being hard boiled and all), "you stop poaching my people and I'll not give you Salmonella. You got that?" "But you're my breakf

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  • - …" "You's best not finish that thought," the mad egg interjected angrily. He had a deviled look. If this was his sunny side up side what could I expect when he turned rotten? "If

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  • that's your attitude you'd better beat it. Go on - scramble!" There's always one bad egg and it was now looking at me defiantly. Determined not to crack, there was only one thing

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  • i could do, and that's microwave a burrito and have a mental breakdown while listening to rock and skipping stones at the nearest lake. I then realized that this was all a dream.

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