Daniel J. Egan Theme – The lesser of two evils

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First Sentence: Winston knew for a fact that the average time it took for an egg to boil was 3 minutes and 37 seconds.

Winston knew for a fact that the average time it took for an egg to boil was 3 minutes and 37 seconds. Three minutes and a half (+7), and he could have soft, oozy goodness, chipped out of it’s container and into his mouth to his stomach and be Ahhhh…satisfied.

Waiting for ten minutes, Winston knew that fact as well. Ten minutes to boil. Ten minutes to set. Some more time to cool down, crack open, and slice and mash and add to it. He pictured the final product, slathered on toast (which he’d have to wait another bit of time for), and crown it all with garden sweets. He’d bite and crunch and swallow and have to wipe the corners of his mouth for the little loose bits that always wind up there.

He drooled.

At three minutes and 37 seconds, he turned the heat off.

Part 2: Dumb, Founded

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3 responses »

  1. At 3 minutes and 37 seconds he turned the heat off. The egg, in all its simplistic glory, was boiled. How could something so egg shaped look so beautiful and serene, he thought to himself.

    He watched as the egg, which to him resembled a giant white pearl, bobbed up and down in the now almost still water. As he stood there gazing into the silver pot, he knew that the destruction of this perfect little balance of harmony that he created was inevitable. And he also knew that due to the extreme rumbling stemming from his stomach, he would be the one to destroy it. However, something was off. Something within his own little harmonic environment was very off.

    Winston as it were, lived in a modest two bedroom flat close to central Chiswick and within walking distance to the local bus and train service. This was important since Winston did not own a vehicle of any sort. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to drive. He actually enjoyed driving immensely, and was quite good at it. So good in fact, there was a time he was regarded as the best car thief in all of London and beyond. This regard of course did not stem from the local authorities. To them, he was a ghost. A white flash in some old video footage overlooking an empty parking garage. To them he was infamy personified. Infamy of course, without a name or a face. They could never catch him, no matter how hard they tried. But to the London underworld; to those who viewed Winston and his craft as art in its truest form; To them he was a living legend; a force not to be reckoned with.

    So when the day came that the authorities were finally able to put a name and a face to their white ghost, to the London underworld it was as if the Queen herself had up and died. If you were a criminal of any sorts, the day the white ghost ceased to exist, was certainly a day where a small amount of hope was lost. Hell, even the common people who had their vehicles stolen were somewhat disappointed. For them, having your car stolen by the white ghost was like hitting the lottery. Now, having it stolen by any old Joe Schmoe was a hassle of course, and a great big pain in the ass! But, if the white ghost stole it, it meant having their picture in the paper and a live interview on the evening news. It meant they would finally get their 15 minutes. For one little old lady from the East end, it also meant a visit with the Queen herself. Now THAT! is the stuff of legends.

    So when the law finally caught up to Winston, everyone knew for a fact that it wasn’t because of Winston. Winston was fast, very fast! He moved fast, he walked fast, he talked fast, and most of all, he drove fast! Winston could not be caught. But, in the end, he was. He was sold out by his ex best mate Sid. Which is why Winston no longer has two things; 1. Cars, because legally he can’t operate a vehicle that has a steering wheel on the right side, and 2. Best mates, since his sold him up the river and has also not been seen or heard from in the 5 years since he ratted him out. Winston of course had nothing to do with his disappearance, he is a thief with morals and a sense of accountability. Stealing cars he could live with, but hurting an ex best friend hit too close to home. His moral code, along with his past, were complex. However, a local thug always reminds Winston when ever he see’s him that Winston owes him a “favor”, but he won’t say why. He just smiles and nods and then walks away with his hands in his pockets. Winston, never really wanting to know the truth, never felt the urge to inquire as to why this favor was owed in the first place. So he in turn also always just smiles and nods back to the thug, and walks away in the opposite direction with his hands in his pockets.

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