Jack Frost Nipping At My Nose With The Promise Of Eggs

Recently, I was greeted by the biting cold of home. It happened almost instantly: my nose dried out, the skin on my knuckles started to crack like boiled tomatoes, and my eyes became watery with the sheer shock of the temperature. A splendid welcoming! The cold is different from the winds of Chicago, it doesn't take a single break to re-accumulate. Its jaws force us to cuddle up inside by the fire, which I must say is rather pleasant.
The moment I arrived home I had a great long sleep. It was five o'clock in the afternoon. I felt as if I hadn't slept in months, and I awoke to complete silence on my living room couch. I sat, and waited for the crackle of the fire to make its way to my thirsty ears. I looked up to the crumbling wood ceiling, and in a nasty web was a poor deceased fly. It hung ominously, but before thinking a beat on the unpleasantness of the thing, I felt a pang of relief to finally be in a place where flies can execute their short life-cycle. I had not seen a bug since August.


In the morning I was disoriented, and not entirely certain what to do with myself. I stumbled downstairs, surprised to meet my mother there. The coffee was the first thing to go on. Then I pulled out a small frying pan with a wobbly handle and took great pleasure in heating it up with some olive oil on the stove. I made myself eggs. With extra drippy yolk - possibly my greatest source of happiness. A thing so infused in my taste buds that I had to tattoo it on the back of my neck. I smothered my toast with pesto and oil and placed my eggs on top. I immediately washed my dishes (something I never used to do while lounging at home) and wandered to the couch to sit again by the fire. The coffee smelled heavenly, and felt at home in the tight grasp of my fingers. I took a large bite and the warm sunny mess came dripping down my chin and onto the plate. The salty tang of an old love affair was practically unbearable, but I was starving for more. It was not a breakfast to sustain myself or to build my energy. It was a reunion.