The eggshells pile up in corners of the kitchen and the living room (almost wrote the Living Tomb there like some massive goth). They are cracked of course, open and already eaten up. Contents devoured by means of frying (the best) or some sort of omelette.
I was going to make a cake, but just didn’t do it. You can buy them in shops. Four eggs (whole, but now long after the best by date) sit next to the oven near the salt – they were the ones I was going to make a chocolate cake with. Those ones. There.
Lockdown may be easier for creatures that aren’t humans, who are not confused by making – or not making – a chocolate cake. Cats, for example. Bison on the plane.
The ad image alongside the eggs I am going to use in an artwork. The eggs will be used in an artwork. The bird box was for… spring birds. To fix on an outside wall. Too small for chickens, maybe a sparrow.