In ancient China, some people believed that the world was trapped inside a giant egg. That some unknowable shell protected us from outside forces that meant us unknowable harm.
We know they’re at least partially right. There is an egg involved with the world. But we’re not inside it… we’re walking on top of it.
Ever since the big storm, the one that started the apocalypse nuts calling it Year Zero and when the monsters crawled out of the mountains, we’ve known it. We’ve felt its diseased heartbeat thudding beneath our feet, seen the chips in the shell as quakes and hurricanes peel it away an inch at a time like a poor chef making egg salad.
We know what’s coming. Before the storm hit us, we saw it on our neighbors. The moon of Io. Mars. Venus. The four-eyes claim it happened to Mercury and probably Pluto, too, but can’t see it with what’s left of the monitoring stations. They all cracked. Something came out of them. Something that seems to be making its way towards us. The nerds say they’ll be here soon; three months tops. I don’t think it matters. Earth’ll crack, first, and something’s going to crawl out to join the others.
That’s why I chose the gun.
Insomniac Nightmares 
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