creative ramblings & reverie

Friday, January 13, 2012


You can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs, Maman decreed.  But fastidious Marie couldn’t abide egg slime, egg goo.  She despaired of finding love in omelette-loving Saint-Yrieix-la-Perche. 

She moved to England; hard-boiled her eggs.
But it was cold there, unfriendly.  She pined; moved home again. 

Made pilgrimage to Lourdes. 

And met Benoit.
Another outcast.


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