Phantom: The Demeanor of Bad Eggs
There are a half-dozen of eggs in my fridge that I admire. They don’t pretend to be good anymore, having gone bad a week ago. They don’t smell or hold shameful green warts on their shells. The veggies and leftovers around them don’t give them jealousy of never being eaten, and they don’t preoccupy themselves with fear of being thrown out.
They just sit there. And chill.
