eggs | Johannes Punkt’s Flaskpost

10/Nov/2013

2013 NaNoWriMo Excerpt #10

That was how they all came together – the gunman’s own blogpost. Not content with having parts of his mind blocked off from him, Mos had started recording himself being traumatised by breaking eggs. He had become somewhat of a viral internet sensation, even though 95% of the people visiting his blog did not even read the notes for every session. He would describe in paragraphs full of spelling errors and crossed-out notes, with footnotes and cross-references, a scene out of some ghastly nightmare. He described the mountain of phones as an actual mountain, one of several symbols that kept reoccurring to him: the ringing mountain, the jingling worms, the bookshelves that moved around.

6/Nov/2013

2013 NaNoWriMo Excerpt #6

Then he brought out a bowl, and held a whole egg above it. Rakel opened her mouth, seemingly unsure what to say. They both trembled like before a first kiss.

Silently, Mos crushed the egg in his hand just the way Karl had last winter. It broke easily, and some of the shell fell off immediately, into the bowl. The liquid gathered round his hand and slid off with reluctance, and it took all his strength to keep his hand outstretched like it was. Rakel started crying, and so did he, and things went kind of black. He came to when the goats licked the rests of egg off from his hand. He was still shaking. Rakel was somewhere else.

5/Nov/2013

2013 NaNoWriMo Excerpt #5

“So, are you sleeping with my wife? Again, I do not wish to hurt you. You can probably hear that I am not even angry right now. I just want to know.”

“No, I understand.”

“Why are you evading the question?”

“A little uncertainty never hurt anyone.”

He began to flare up, he closed his fists and the snowflakes on his fingers melted as if on cue.

The journalist picked up one of the eggs from his fetish basket and crushed it in his hands. Mos started crying, and the whole world began to shake for him. Unspeakable horror. Rakel found him late in the night, well on way to morning, rocking back and forth and dribbling. She loved him, so she helped him back to their house.