Pour a little oil into the pan. Tilt it until a bright crescent gathers along the edge, then bring it level again.
It’s nice to have this much influence over a horizon.
Add the onion. Keep the heat moderate. It’ll soften while you lay the turkey bacon in the other pan and find the hot honey seasoning. Ever tried it? Good stuff.
Take a pinch. Raise your hand.
Let gravity have it.
A shower of red and gold comes turning through the light. The larger fragments fall straight into the pan; the fine dust takes a wider route, briefly making the air visible. Follow it.
Another pinch, a little lower this time. The counter’s had enough.
Crack two eggs into a bowl. Don’t break the yolks yet. Move the bowl in a slow circle and watch them travel around its shallow curve: twin suns dragging their clear surroundings with them.
Change the angle. Their paths narrow. One rolls toward the other, glances off, goes wobbling away.
Do that again.
Now take a fork to them. Pull a bright thread from the first yolk and wind it around the second. A spiral arm reaches across the bowl. Turn your wrist and another follows, the whole small galaxy gathering around the fork.
Beat until combined, as the recipes say, passing rather quickly over this part.
Check the onion. Turn the bacon.
Pour the eggs into the pan and lower the heat. Let them spread into the spaces between the onion, filling every little bay and channel. Along the rim, the surface begins to pale.
Draw it inward with the spatula. Fold slowly. Steam rises from the opening, stretches above the pan, and comes apart in the light. More follows. You lean a little to see it against the dark cupboard.
The eggs need another fold.
Cut the avocado. Twist the halves apart. A clean green world with an unnecessarily large stone in the middle. Get the stone out, slice the flesh, and arrange it beside the bacon.
Lift the eggs onto the plate while they still shine.
Now the pepper.
Sprinkle a little over the eggs and watch the dark points settle across the yellow. Three almost in a row. A fourth above them. You’re already joining them, finding shoulders, a raised arm, something striding across the warm, uneven sky.
Orion, approximately.
Another pinch gives him a dog, or possibly a bicycle.
Carry the plate to the table before you get involved in the mythology.
