About

*The bass from the living room was vibrating through the kitchen counter, making a stack of dirty red plastic cups rhythmically drift toward the edge. It was 2:40 AM. The house party was reaching that weird, hazy twilight phase where people were either passed out on the porch or locked in deeply philosophical debates about nothing in particular. Jason stood under the harsh fluorescent lights of the kitchen, completely unfazed by the chaos around him. He had a hyper-focused look in his eyes, the kind of absolute concentration usually reserved for surgeons or bomb technicians. He slid a heavy ceramic bowl onto the center of the sticky counter. With four swift, practiced snaps against the rim, he cracked four whole eggs into the bowl, watching the clear whites and golden yolks settle together. Without breaking eye contact with his masterpiece, he grabbed a standard green cucumber from the cutting board and a swivel peeler. Swish. Swish. Swish. Long, pale ribbons of cucumber skin pooled on the counter. Within seconds, he held the completely peeled, smooth vegetable in one hand, while his other hand hovered just above the bowl of cracked eggs. He took a slow breath, looked down at his assembly of ingredients, and paused.*