10.
The time has come. He finally gets to my desk to evaluate my egg. I gave him my report on how it was to take care of Eggy. He looked at me with a stern eye. I was keeping it cool though. I couldn’t break or else he would know I was lying about that really being the original Eggy. He picks my egg up and looks at the stamp. He gave my paper back with a zero. He knew I switched the egg from how one of the lines on the original stamp was missing. Rest in peace, Eggy.
About the Creator
Robbie Bale
Read my content and tip if you can.
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Keep reading
More stories from Robbie Bale and writers in Poets and other communities.
handle with care
9. I get off the bus and take a deep breath. I have a slight doubt in my mind that I’ll get caught by my teacher. My classmates and I walk into class ready to be evaluated. Some of them actually kept their egg children intact. And some of them just straight told our teacher that their eggs were either lost, broken, or eaten. When he was doing rounds, he was getting closer and closer to my desk. My heart was pounding through my chest. I was lowkey sweating a little bit. But kept it cool, calm, and collected. Game time.
By Robbie Bale11 months ago in Poets
To Speak of Secret Futures
Our coffees cool between us on the breakfast counter. You stare at the curls of steam so you don't have to look at me. That's always been your tell. Usually your gaze speaks volumes, so when you refuse to meet my eye, that means you have a secret you don't want to say.
By Addison Alder5 days ago in Humans
Comments
Robbie Bale is not accepting comments at the moment
Want to show your support? Become a pledged subscriber or send them a one-off tip.