ISSN 1758-6488
|
The White Horse Fiction |
print view |
The eggs looked smaller than Nina thought eggs ought to look. ‘Pullet’s eggs’ her father would have called them. They were dead white, and cool from being outside. She cradled one in each palm, then lowered them carefully into the roiling water. A plume of white ran out, coagulated and began to whirl as she quickly turned down the ring to 2. She buttered three slices of bread and cut them into fingers. It was three minutes for a just-set egg, she knew that, but these were so small that perhaps she should allow less time. Her alarm clock had no second hand, so she counted aloud, ‘one and two and three and’ until she got to thirty, and then she lifted the eggs, one by one. The best thing to do would be crack them open and mash the soft-boiled egg.
She took her plate over to the table counter and began to eat ravenously, cramming the food into her mouth. Egg dripped off her fingers and she wiped up the drops and licked them. She finished both eggs and took another piece of bread out of the packet to wipe the plate. Suddenly her stomach clenched. Sweat started out on her forehead and she sat very still, clutching the sides of her chair.
There was a sound. A corner of the poster detached itself and began to roll up, slowly but with an authority which could not be interrupted. The poster moved across the wall like a wave, cleansing it. The horse’s head had almost disappeared. There was a final small sound and then the last bit of blue sky vanished as the poster fell right off the wall and disappeared behind Nina’s bed.
She had left the saucepan of boiling water on the ring. The sellotape had steamed off. There was a fine film of moisture all over the surface of the wallpaper.
Nina went to the window and opened it as wide as it would go. There was a chock to prevent the sash from running all the way up. The iron smell of the eggs left her. The fog that had hung over the city for days had all blown away, and there was a cold, wild look to the sky.
In the crook of Sarah’s arm, her baby shone like a star.
