Was devouring some century eggs with sliced ginger that Mother prepared earlier. It reminded me of an... how should I put it? Incident... no, encounter I had when I'm still the only child. About eggs.
How exotic an egg have you tried?
Think about it.
How about gecko's?
Yes, the household gecko's. Lizard, cicak, or whatever you call it.
I was too small to know the difference. They were hidden at a corner of an unexplored section of the house. Nicely gridded on the glass surface of a rattan coffee table. Four, maybe five of them. By the time Mother came to the rescue, the table was emptied.
How it tasted? A little salty, maybe. I seriously couldn't remember.
How it felt? Well, it was crunchy on the outside. Something similar to M&M's, softer, with empty fillings. When the shell broke on the tongue, it was... quite a scene in there. The egg white squirting. And the yolk flowing down the throat was...
Argh! Fuck! Forget it! I'm having butterflies now.