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  • I found a robin's egg - so perfect, so blue, so alone. I carried the egg cupped in the nest of my hands like a treasure.

    Both my brother and sister wanted to hold the egg. I refused. Not out of selfishness, out of a sense of sacredness. I felt responsible for the egg. I thought I was protecting it.

    As I carried the egg up the stairs to the house, in order to make a nest for safe-keeping, my siblings followed me, close at my heels, begging to hold it. I continued to shake my head no.

    Then I tripped.

    I stumbled on the top step and the egg dropped. The perfect little egg cracked and the yolk spilled out, dripping down the step. My brother called me a murderer. My sister took up the chant. Hot tears filled my eyes.

    I hid under my dad's desk for the rest of the afternoon.

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