Eggs Held Level

Hanne Doyle paid two drops a span at Ninefold Ferry and stood on the hatch cover to keep her boots dry. The Foundry’s flat boat slid out over brown water, its crew hauling in a slow chant. Across the river, a lamp-house smoke leaned over the hill. She held her basket of eggs level the whole crossing, for her sister’s supper, and did not look down at the water once.