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The crack of the shell inside could be heard like an atomic explosion in the sudden silence of a 100 or so people.

Surely, there would be no reason to cut the twine and remove the lid.

Whites of the egg could be seen spewing from a corner of the box, as was the yellow streaking of the yolk. A small puddle began to form.

I’m sure at this point the ones in charge of opening the boxes had no idea what to do.

My friend and I looked at each other and I know we both started wishing that we had given this much more thought.

For instance:

We should have ridden our bikes because a hasty retreat is damn near impossible when done by foot.

I can’t remember that particular walk of shame. Can you blame me? Some things are easier forgotten.

But I do remember what I learned that day.

That fragile things should be protected for one; when their protection cannot be assured, you should always try to prepare it as best you can to give it at least a fighting chance.


To temper the armor with a soft inner lining so the soul of that egg remains intact because what good is the hard outer shell if the inside is all broken?


Additional artwork used from ®Microsoft clipart and may or may not have been altered using Microsoft ®Power Point