I went into the garage in the evening and found these eggs on the floor.

They weren’t the remains of some horror-movie infestation, but the delicate, abandoned shells of lizard eggs—most likely from tiny geckos that had already slipped away into the walls and corners of the house. The firm, oval shells and the clean, intentional-looking cracks were classic signs of a successful hatching, not decay or damage. What first felt ominous slowly turned into something strangely beautiful: a secret life unfolding right beside the lawn tools and storage boxes.

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