The Point of No Return



	I was climbing all the way to the top. I was standing...on one foot. Balance-oh-balance. The top was a very small area. Balance-oh-balance. The sensation of conquering generated great (inhale...exhale) satisfaction. Yes. I was on the top. Yes, of course it was a very small area but it was mine. Some time ago, I passed a big sign that read The Point Of No Return. I wasn't thinking because I was eager to get to the top. I got to the top. Then my conqueror's satisfaction faded away and when I calmed down a bit a shy notion pushed its way through the other thoughts and said: "Hello, if this is The Point Of No Return then there is no way down from here. Is there?"...and once it clicked...balance-oh-balance...panic started rising from below along with the tentacles of cousin paranoia, together they coiled around my legs then my hips, grabbing my hands hugging my torso. Before it was too late, I gripped my flittering heart and carefully sat down, opened the map, pulled out the laptop and began to hope. "Can I turn back?" I asked. Eep was clueless. "How should I proceed from here?" the laptop spooled "Unknown Event." I was scared. In search for relief I focused on the geographical properties of The Point Of No Return. It was clearly located high above the average ground (a fact I barely acknowledged while climbing). According to the map it was in the center of the sunset/sunrise and it sure was quiet in the eye of the zone. Distant surfaces, reaching out to the horizon, were echoing soft light and all the reds, oranges and yellows of the spectrum were washing into thin, powdery surfaces of dirt. A star had shone—a blue, young star that was the only indication of some time lapse in that terrain. "Hello," said the egg. I jumped in a fright, nearly rolling off my seat.



	Beloved, Forgive me for the long silence. I can't remember if I told you about the incident with the egg at The Point Of No Return. In any case I'm writing it again and if I'm repeating myself due to loss of memory, just close this letter. I'm writing it as it happened. This is what I heard from the egg: "I was born in Oklahoma, my chicken had no name but a number, A-306-37. I rolled with my siblings down the tubes and landed in our Styrofoam compartments on our way to the final destination—the pan. The desire to meet the pan is injected into our chickens while us eggs are still hanging on the egg-forming chain inside the body. Two days later we started our cross-country journey, piles of us in the belly of an eighteen-wheeler. The road felt good, the hum from the engine was our lullaby. But tragedy became our destiny when in the middle of nowhere our trailer crashed into another creating a goo that turned into a humongous scrambled egg on the heated desert road. I was the only one to survive as a whole when I landed in a bush at the side of the road. The rumor spread like fire in a dry field and animals from all over came to the feast. The main course was scrambled eggs and a screaming driver. I thought I was in hell. From nowhere a coyote came by, picked me up and gently, I must say, carried me further into the desert's wilderness. The sounds of crunching shells faded as we flew over canyons, creeks, flatlands and mountains. I thought this went on for days. That's when I started turning green inside, because of my fear of heights. You understand of course that falling would have meant I'd never meet a pan, which is my whole reason for existence in the first place. The coyote left me here possibly ten or twenty years ago, I lost count. That is my story." I looked at the egg. It looked like a normal bleached supermarket egg to me. The egg continued: "I'm green and yellowish-brown inside. I stink inside. I'm rotten. But my shell is still real pretty—white as a bride—not a crack, not a wrinkle. Touch me! Feel me!" I touched the shell. "Hey you, do you have a pan?" said the egg. "Hmmm, just a tiny one." There was a brief moment of silence and then a howl, "Oh, please, please have me, PLEASE!" "No way!" I said. "Pleeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaassssssssse!" cried the egg in the most disturbing voice. "No! You just finished telling me how you're all green and stinking inside. I'm not going to have you." "Please, please have me. You're my only chance to fulfill my destiny. Please...in the name of my siblings who got devoured on the road thirty years ago...PLEEEEEEASE..." The sobbing started to get to me and of course, the egg sensed my emerging weakness. "This is The Point Of No Return, you know...sooner or later you got to have me…" An undertone of wickedness send a shiver down my spine. I looked back to see the top edge of the sign down below. I counted my options. "Do you mind if I put on my gas mask as I crack you open?" I asked the egg. "Not at all, not at all, be my guest..." I placed the gas mask over my face and adjusted the viewing holes through which I could see the egg was ecstatic. I pulled out a spoon from my backpack and knocked the shell once or twice to crack it. As it gave in I was expecting the green ooze to spill out. Whatever rolled onto the pan looked like an average egg to me. I examined it carefully, moved it around with my spoon, then slowly pulled off the gas mask and...smelled. The egg seemed normal. So, I made an omelette and ate. It tasted like an egg. All along, as I was consuming the omelet I was wondering what the egg was thinking for ten or twenty, or was it thirty years? And all this stirring of emotion... The next day I noticed that my morning stool had a slightly greenish tint to it. Looking closer I could read the words "Thank You" on my piece of shit. I'm not sure why, but I can see beyond The Point Of No Return now. Yours 4ever, your sunset/sunrise forever yours yours forever yours. [ Still searching for the lost treasure ]