Wonders of the None Man - Birth

Nothing really happens, depends what you judge nothing to mean though.

I let the screen door slam shut with a thud behind me, dirt rag in one hand and iced tea in the other. I allowed my whole weight to fall onto the warm chair and huffed as I’d finally reached my destination. Nothing extraordinary really happens here, so I sat sipping away at my tea, freezing glass in one hand while the other lay dead on the oaken arm rest. Another day comes to a grand close. I rested my eyes, almost dozing off being lulled to the floor’s creaks.

I don’t recall the exact moment that changed my day right then, but I do remember the noise. A thunderous, wet SPLAT rang out from the lonely light pole off the side of my fence. I didn’t think much of it honestly and would’ve gone about my day, but something just didn’t sit right with me. To think that I expected it to happen only chills me to my core now that I really think about it. Still, I got up off my lazy chair and decided to approach the pole. I inched nonchalantly down the driveway, enjoying that soft crunch of gravel below, probably one of the last sweet moments I had.

          

Turning the corner of the fence edge, I caught a glimpse of yellow from where the splat had come. Though it was… underwhelming, I almost laughed at myself; an egg yolk and white lay before me. Smile wide, source found, I wondered who in their right mind would feel unease such as mine. Lost in my amusement and sympathy for the poor thing, I’d forgotten to account for something however.

          

Where’s the shell? I gazed up at the pole, half expecting it to answer. There was certainly a nest up there, but the shell was nowhere to be seen. Had it been taken? Is it stuck somewhere? Had some bird cracked the egg only to drop its insides? Is it-

         

WHOOSH.

A strong gust of summer wind disturbed the surroundings, taking me out of my stupor along with the leaves it blew. The nest was no less disturbed, a small egg seemed to peer out to the long fall awaiting it. I intended on catching this one, making use of my shirt as a makeshift safety net. As if on cue, the egg came down… though slowly. As light as the air that pushed it, the egg moved in a fashion you wouldn’t expect from a solid, dense object.

        

The sense of urgency left me now, I rather decided to reach out and just barely caught the thing above my head. I examined the egg, and promptly wished that I hadn’t. Hollow, the egg was hollow, yet there was no imperfection; whole, without a single crack to suggest it should feel empty. I’d just rid myself of my unease only to feel a more pressing question. Lost in my mind again, decision bubbled to my surface. Without a second thought, I clapped my hands together, shell in between. I dropped the remains onto the egg insides, rubbed my hands to rid myself of any dirt or bits leftover, and made my way back to my tea.

Inevitable, I thought. Any sympathy for the egg had gone, and any trace of anomaly had gone with it. Before I knew it, I was back to the comfort of my porch. Nothing extraordinary really happens here, so I sat sipping away at my tea. Oaken arm rest clutched in one hand, freezing glass in the other.

Author's Note

I'd love to know what you thought, in any regard honestly please! Any grammar mistakes? Tense mistakes? Flow of the story? <-- My priorities, but anything helps :)