Isabelle Lewis

Breakfast

Breakfast I began my breakfast as I did any other day. I cracked two eggs into the cast iron pan. They hit the oil with a sizzle, and the whites began to puff up and fry, forming tiny lace-like holes. The smell of the smoking olive oil hit my nose, and Rosie lifted her black and white head from my feet and licked her chops. Her breakfast would be in the barn today.