Duck eggs and free range eggs in The Salt Pig ...

This morning, in The Salt Pig, I was reading Robert Fisk's column in The Independent, energised by his waspish disdain of British legal hypocrisies - 

I vowed that I must read his The Great War for Civilization: The conquest of the Middle East - 

I must have missed the crossword gang - they were not at their usual table, murmuring over clues - they'd taken their Daily Mail with them, too - 

I'd called in for a cappuccino, after a stint in the gym - I've surprised myself by going to the gym at least twice a week for the last year or so - 

I slyly weigh myself every day on our new scales - perhaps that's a little excessive - 

I'd watched The Jeremy Kyle show whilst on the running machine - I lip read his taunts - I remembered how Haruki Murakami would go running - 

I'd discretely admired the shapely Amazons on the cross trainers - 

But a vague sense of anxiety now seized me - what intricate conspiracies were taking place inside my body?

Then I saw a basket containing duck eggs and free range hen eggs - 

I picked up a duck egg, glorying in its shape and weight - I held it against my cheek - 

I suddenly felt happier - whatever happened, every moment was full of wonder -