He awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside his bedroom window.
And for some reason, he felt compelled to listen intently to their song, though such an urge had never occurred to him before.
As he leaned his frame in closer to the window trying to decipher their melodic titters and chirpings, he believed he could almost definitely hear them sing, "Wake up, wake up, you are Nothing, Nothing wake up."
He smiled, for he knew this to be true.
He rose with a stretch and went into the bathroom.
"I am Nothing," he sang as he washed and dressed.
He went into the kitchen.
"I am Nothing," he hummed to himself as he drank his coffee and read the paper.
He finished, checked his watch once, and headed for the front door.
"I am Nothing," he called to the emptiness of his apartment.
The silence winked in agreement and, satisfied, he left.
"I am Nothing," he cried in greeting to all of those he passed on the way to his bus stop.
He arrived to find an old woman seated and waiting.
He tipped his hat to her and, beaming, said, "Greetings. I am Nothing. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
The old woman cocked her head to the side, looking him over.
"Nothing, eh?" she mused. "That's an odd name for a young man. How did you come across it?"
"An epiphany, you might say," Nothing replied. "You see, the message was conveyed to me this morning, by birds."
"Yes, Birds. Outside my bedroom window. They were singing, and in their song I could distinctly make out the words 'Wake up, wake up, you are Nothing, Nothing wake up.'"
"Yes. And I realized that it was true. For you see, I am neither old, nor am I young. I am not married, nor is it likely that I ever will be. I have never loved, or been loved. I have no living family members; thus I am essentially 'alone' in this world. I am employed at a company where, day in and day out, I ply my trade while avoiding any sort of action which might bring distinction or recognition upon my application: I am neither hardworking, nor am I slothful. I simply am. And my existence, by whatever strange twist of fate, has been rendered irrevocably obsolete to every other."
"That's quite a tale," the old woman said. "It almost makes me sad."
"How glad I am to hear you say that," Noting said. "For you see, if my tale had in fact depressed you to even the slightest degree, my 'record' would have been broken. I would have transcended the barrier of meaningless despair which has been constructed about my person. And now, if you will excuse me, I do believe it is time for me to depart"-
-the screeching of breaks applied just a split second too late, of the sickening thud of the truck striking the body, and of several other crashes inspired as a result of the first collision drowned out all others within the vicinity for a little over ten minutes.
And Life moved on.