Someone’s been eating eggs. I don’t mean us, although obviously we have been eating them, and with great relish too. I tried and failed to take a photograph of this morning’s scramble, that glorious renaissance of the freshly-laid goog. It seems that these eggs are simply too magnificent to be captured by mortal photographic technology. All that remained on film was this ineffable golden glow.
No, I don’t mean us, the authorised Egg Robbers. Some other creature has been eating eggs. It could be a rat or a possum. It could be Snakey the Diamond Python – there was a mysterious predatory smell in the garden over the last couple of days, along with scattered beige feathers. Andy Ninja was looking distinctly rumpled, like an ambitious nocturnal reptile might have tried to make her, perched temptingly amidst the lower branches of the coral tree, a late-night snack . But I fear it may be…. a Cannibal Chicken.
The kids are on the case: “We questioned each of the chickens, by showing them an egg. Shyla and Treasure were interested, but not too interested. But Luna went close to it… too close. I think she tried to peck it.” So, after this exhaustive forensic investigation, Luna is in the frame (in a possible miscarriage of justice, Abbey the elusive Barnevelder escaped questioning by being impossible to catch).
Who is the inner Luna? Who can say, although the disturbing photograph suggests an interior vortex and a single glowing eye. Beware, Luna, we will be watching you…
