Crack An Egg On Your Head Novels & Stories

I don't do as told because I'm flipping myself to my back and continue listening to Ander's sexually explicit voice notes. It's only when the piercing smell of smoke hits my lungs I stand up. My eggs have burned and stuck to the pan. So much for a non stick pan. I set my phone down for a few seconds, break 2 other eggs and put them in a brand new pan. I, learning from my mistakes set it on the lowest heat. It doesn't burn this time, but it's sure as hell inedible. I throw it away, completely giving up on the idea of eating eggs.

Beta Audrey was striding towards me with a saucer with what seems to be a fat slice of chocolate cake. I lowered my eyes. And not only I earned a slap that rattled the tray on both of my hands, I also deduced that what hit my head: a fucking egg. And even if I don’t look at the mirror, I know that the yolk is clinging to my hair and egg whites are hugging the back of my neck. And the back of my shirt. Not to mention that eggshells perhaps also peppered my silky white-gold hair by the look of the large half-broken eggshell on the floor.

He yelled after Lemuel picking up a knife and an egg that got me wondering what he was up to . " Men." He said shaking his head in a very funny way. " They will never cease to amaze me." He stood staring at the knife and egg in his hands for some seconds,then he lifted his head , staring at me like a lost four year old pup. "If I break this egg, will I boil the yolk or should I make bacon first?" I blinked. Instantly, I became clueless and confused at the same time. Gracious moon goddess!

CRACK. The sound of my knuckles meeting her cheekbone echoes in the small room. My fist is hard, fueled by weeks of suppressed rage. The force of the blow knocks her head to the side, and a white, bloody object flies from her mouth, a tooth. It bounces off the floor with a tiny clink.

"He is just adding spice. You only snore when you take alcohol. It's not that loud though." "Thanks sis." "She is just saying that to make you feel better." "How about you? Does Ella know about your sweating problem?" "What?" Beau asked. "Drew gets sweaty hair when he is nervous." "You sweat from the head?" "Yeah. He does. One time he bathed his own sweat when he broke the water fountain and was trying to lie about it." "That was when I was young. I don't sweat that bad anymore." "If you say so." "Everyone has a weird quirk."

she snapped at the stove. The eggs came next. She cracked one. Shell fell in. She fished it out with a spoon, grimacing. She cracked another. Shell again. “Why do you hate me?” she asked the eggs. She whisked too hard. Then too slow. The eggs started to set. Panic hit. “No no no no..” She stirred frantically. They browned slightly. Her eyes widened in horror. She scooped them out immediately, staring at the faint golden edge like it was a crime scene.

The sound split her mind—sharp, piercing, like crystal fracturing beneath heat. Her breath hitched. The sound reverberated inside her skull, shaking her teeth in her jaw until her body convulsed. She clutched her head, nails raking her own skin, as if she could claw the noise out. Her vision whitened, pupils swallowed in a flood of searing light. Light burst behind her eyes. Blinding. Searing. Absolute. It consumed her breath, stripped the air from her lungs. Her body arched as though lightning speared her spine, her throat clawed for sound that would not come. And then came the most terrifying sensation of all—she dissolved.

Since I had deliberately hidden my injured right hand inside my loose white coat, Megan didn't notice it was hurt at all. She strode up to me and, without a word, slapped me across the face. "Donovan, as a doctor, how could you let jealousy drive you to kill your own patient? You're not even fit to be called human!" I pressed my tongue against the inside of my stinging cheek, and out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone from Megan's group already discreetly pulling out a camera. I chuckled inwardly. "What nonsense are you talking about? When did I ever kill my patient? Pierre's surgery—"

Nothing feels loose. I turn my head and look back up at Broken Nose. "I'll ask you one more time," he says, cracking his scarred knuckles slowly. "Who did you tell?" I lean forward as far as the duct tape allows, then I spit a mouthful of blood directly onto his shoe.

She lifted her chin and kept moving, selecting bread, fruit, cartons of milk, all while ignoring the glares drilling holes into her back. Until the first egg flew. It came out of nowhere, smashing against her shoulder with a sickening splat. Yellow yolk and sticky white oozed down her blouse. For a second, the world froze. Gasps rippled through the aisle. Tessa stood rigid, staring down at the mess staining her clothes. Then another egg hit her, this time on the side of her head. The goo trickled into her hair. The group of women laughed, their phones raised to record.