Neorah laid an egg. It was black and it wiggled. She watched it break, horror petting her mind like a kind master. A babe lay there — a boy — his hair and eyes black as the egg’s shell, his teeth large and brilliant white.
“You’ve been a bad mommy,” said the boy.
The egg boy jumped to his feet, standing naked and slimy before his horrified mother.
“Name me punishment,” he said in a high, sweet voice like unto angels, “for I am yours.”
Neorah fainted away.