A man high egg on trips.

Miroslaw raised his brows.

“Man high stone egg, going on trips” she repeated, as if he was slow-witted. Her hand sank back onto the blanket, suddenly very, very tired.

She sounded deeply offended.

“You went on trips without me, man.”

She didn’t know where the egg was now. Everything felt heavy. Her foot wiggled itself free from the too warm blanket.

“Where did you go.”

“Where’s the egg.”

“Why did you go without me.”

Whenever Miro thought he could give her an answer – whatever that answer would be – she added another question-disguised-accusation to the list.

“You can’t go on trips with the egg without me. I want to come on the adventures.”

Her hand tried to fix some stubborn wrinkle on the too warm blanket, but coordination was as hard as numbers.

Shit wasn’t fair.

“That’s rude, man.”

She looked up again from her hand, eyes wandering through the anesthetic recovery room, staring at Miro for a moment without really looking at him. The egg wasn’t there. Where had it gone.

Why was she hungry.

Miroslaw slowly nodded, agreeing with her. Sounded pretty rude to him, too. Pretty serious indeed. How dare he.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad by excluding you.”

In the egg adventures.

She took a shaky breath that felt like the dumb egg was sitting right on her chest. Her mouth was dry. Maybe she’d eaten the egg, off-white and all, and couldn’t remember it.

The frown on her face grew deeper.

“I have eaten your egg.”

The realization hit her hard.

“I’m so sorry.”

Miro couldn’t help but snicker. He reached for her arm, comfortingly patting her.

“Don’t worry. The egg is fine.”

“But where did it go.”

He realized he wouldn’t get away without making up some kind of egg adventure that he’d done earlier, without her, if he wanted her to find some peace of mind midst sedation. So where did the man high stone egg and he go…

“You know the trip we took the other day to the snack vending machine down second level in B-hall?”

“With the ice cream?”

“With the ice cream. So the egg wanted-“

“Ice cream.”

Reda nodded, as if that was the only possible answer to the egg riddle.

“Gotcha. Can I have some.”

He reached over to the cup with ice cubes on the drawer. He got her covered, friendly face and ice cubes and egg and all. He was always amazed hearing her talk so much under sedation, when she’d soberly still preferred to sign instead of speaking.

~ ~ ~