hsg i found an egg. this fragile egg i held in my hands for hours marveling at the sum of my life's work. having received from my grandfather's childhood friend, i will always remember the words he left me: "one day, you'll do what feels right and you'll understand."

then there came a time i could not hold onto it anymore; at least not directly. with a promise to myself to honor the man's statement i put it down.

more than a half_decade had passed when it wouldn't leave me alone. every time i'd go to sleep i would see it on the end_table, eventually having to put it in the closet. but i couldn't get it out of my mind.


at dawn, i was to carry this egg to a pillow's center in an old stone room. there was an old man in the corner, half in shadow. one could discern features if one strained. he watched intently while writing in a book which appeared even older than him.

instructions were given to walk to the pillow (not fifteen feet away!) at a steady pace that would allow me to arrive in twelve hours. in the time that passed he described to me how the whole process was very important, that in order for him to find peace, my family to find peace, i had to have the courage to place kindly that egg. he said my will to do it gently was a prerequisite to me learning to live_forever, that unt_i_l_earned he would not sleep because he could not be at peace. when i got to the pillow i felt a sense of urgency mixed with anxiety and overwhelm. unsure of myself i took the egg in both hands and through it against the stone floor with great force.

the old man in the corner, nodded almost imperceptibly, let the smallest sigh out, turned a page beginning to write again. glancing up at me, he asked calmly if i would take the pillow and bring it to him. i did. he said i'd looked tired, to lay down there as he would read to me his book. i drifted. last thing i remembered him reading was that he had given my grandfather's childhood friend the egg.

then in my dream, still within the original, i was to try again. before i commenced i asked for forgiveness for before. with a look of compassion he said, "all is forever for.given'" i never knew anyone to take something so close so impersonally and without a trace of resentment. i felt like i had to cry as if there was something i needed to learn before i could leave.

arriving at the pillow i placed the egg in the center as gently as if it were a newborn child. it began to shimmer light in a way so nonthreatening and it felt soft when i looked at it. like it would give way if i touched it or as if the way the pillow had been to it, it having had decided to bend even more kindly to all eyes who had courage to rest on it.

without impatience the old man asked if i would bring it to him. i did. he said he would trade me the book he has written before him for the egg. we exchanged.

i read the book while walking in a figure_eight as directed and understood why he felt it was in my best interest to trade for the egg.
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