Childhood memory descriptive piece

Every fortnight I was faced with the taunting experience of retrieving the eggs and every fortnight the task became more and more daring. Each morning at Nonis (grandmother) house a war between the chickens and I emerged from the normally silent yard, a war that separated all good from the world and emphasized death, destruction and danger. Every morning at Nonis house the boy that I was turned into a manly structure, ready for battle. …

…were lightened by the luminous light which the object possessed. My cold hands were soon created into warm pads of delicacy by the inner scorch that the treasure pulsated. Thoughts of victory and success emerged in my mind and with a small teardrop emerging I called this treasure my EGG. The war had been won. It was now time to return home and once again face the family I had missed so much during battle.