May 16, 2015

“I found an egg beside my head. Like all things in the MEAT PLACE, the egg was made of steak. I tapped the shell with my fingernail and it clicked solidly. The sausage links and meat breasts and entrails were withered, their brown remnants dusting up the floor. I tapped the egg again and when it did not break, I tapped harder. A hairline fracture ran down the length of the egg, separating the oval into hemispheres.”

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