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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1007208
A hurried breakfast..
Friday Morning

She cracked the egg against the side of the frying pan,
then dropped it in.
It began to sizzle.
Another egg was treated the same, and it sizzled too.
She then reached over to flip the bacon.
Some of the grease from it, spit out onto her arm,
causing her to wince.

When the eggs looked ready, she flipped them with a spatula,
then reached over to the toaster, and pushed the bread down.
She checked the bacon again, and seeing that it was done,
turned the heat off.
With a fork, she lifted each piece of bacon carefully onto a paper towel,
so the extra grease could be absorbed.

The eggs also appeared to be done,
so she turned the heat off for them.
With the spatula, she picked each one up,
and placed them on a plate.

A bing came from the toaster as the toast popped up.
She took each slice, buttered a side, then placed them on the plate
buttered sides together, next to the eggs.
Then cut the toast in half.

She put the bacon on the plate with the eggs and toast,
then placed the plate on the kitchen table.
She grabbed a coffee cup from the cupboard,
filled it with coffee, and placed it on the table.

After she placed a fork next to the plate, she sighed softly,
and waited for her husband to come downstairs.
A few minutes later, he came into the kitchen.
She smiled, and said, “Breakfast is ready.”
He glanced to the table, then said to her, “Thanks, I’m in a hurry this morning.”
Like every morning she thought to herself.

He sat down at the table, and while he ate,
she glanced out the window.
There was a squirrel trying to find nuts
in the shells under a bird feeder.
She thought he looked hungry, and noticed how the birds stayed away.

Glancing back to the kitchen table, she saw that he was
gone. A few crumbs and a half finished coffee
were all that remained.
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