The Return of the Egg

One of my first impressions from the change of “president” was the vanishing of the vendors – and their products – from around my house. Eggs, clothespins, brushes, mugs, cheese and yogurt all disappeared in this crazy war against the black market with which Raul Castro began his mandate.

Since then, buying something as simple as an egg has become agony, from mile-long lines to bringing them from some remote place in the city. The hawkers fled from my window and I resigned myself to doing without them.

Today at nine in the morning I thought I was dreaming, a woman’s voice was shouting, “Eggs! Eggs!”

I opened my eyes and realized that the sound was not coming from my subconscious. My reality reassembled itself as people once again take on the risk of selling things. I jumped up, shouting,

“I’m coming!”