Personal Narrative Fiction

If you really want to hear about it, you’ll want to know how the old egg got there. I don’t know how it got there and I don’t think anybody ever will. It just showed up. Out of nowhere. Like some magician just plopped it there or something. It wasn’t like the other eggs either, it was big, very big. About 30 times bigger if you ask me. It was a little spotted too. Not like a bold type of spotted though. More muted, a nice kind if spotted. Anyways, it just showed up one day, and what really killed me was that the mother duck still took care of the other egg. She knew it wasn’t her’s, I mean it’s not like someone told her it wasn’t her egg, but you could tell. Her other eggs were smaller, much smaller; and smoother too. Anyways, she still took care of the egg just like all her others. …show more content…
I really am! I just don’t understand them. I’ve always wondered where they go during the winter, I never did figure that out. And now I’m wondering why this duck took care of this egg that wasn’t hers. No adult would do that, at least none that I know. I mean could you imagine one day just coming home and having some random baby at your door? There’s got to be someone in the world who would take care of it, but nobody I know. Most of the people I know are phony. They might say they would, just to sound all high and mighty and charitable and all, but I know if it really happened to them, they wouldn’t do a goddamn thing about it. Just a bunch of phonies, the whole lot of