The Earth is An Egg
an excerpt

But stranger to Zane and to Jay than the newly revealed shell of the earth, and stranger than the planet’s hollow interior falling away below into blue sky and blackness, and stranger than the thought of what could have possibly hatched from the earth's gaping emptiness--even stranger than the men who found themselves standing on the ridge, on the broad knife’s edge of the top of the epic and broken shell of what had once been a planet--was what the two men saw happening below, happening at what appeared to be the very center of the Ragged Shell Formerly Known As Earth.

Equidistant from the inner earth’s brown and gray and black walls, hanging directly in the center and seeming closer and larger even than earth’s moon, was a massive orb of dirt and rock, hanging like a new planet in a new sky—a captive world, a world being born.

The planet seemed to have formed itself, and to be forming itself still, from the detritus and debris of the wrecked earth’s shell. As best as Zane and Jay could figure it, Earth may have been torn open by a prehistoric giant bird, and it may have lost much of its upper half, but it hadn’t evidently lost its center of gravity. That center, more than just an idea, would be a singularity similar to a black hole’s, and its draw would still be powerful, a fixed point that pulled the world toward it from all around.

Evidently, when pieces of the earth had started breaking away, some of them had fallen in, and been broken up as they all moved toward the center, toward the point of utmost gravity. Pieces had fallen on pieces, dirt and rock had pulled away from spots of the interior of the shell, and even now, they could see, more rock was crumbling away from the long curve of the broken earth’s edge, raining toward the nascent sphere.

It was almost hallucinogenic, but it was beyond that. It was almost visionary, but it was real. Zane and Jay watched this new world form, watched the ruins of the world they had hoped to save, watched the vapors and dirt and rocks and debris hurtle dreamily toward the new planet from every direction.

They felt, in a way, like gods at the dawn of time, felt as if, maybe this was how it had once happened, yet they also felt that a lot of new thought would have to be given to everything, everything, before anything could ever be held as certain again.

This was change, and creation, and, in a way it was an answer to the riddle of the quakes, to the loss of the oceans, and to the deaths of so many. It was awful in the true sense of the word—that it filled them with awe, saturated them with it—and it was horrible and terrible and wonderful in the root senses of those terms as well. The earth they knew was gone forever, and without ever boarding a rocket or going anywhere, they found themselves now on another planet--their own, but completely unlike their own--watching yet another world form from the wreckage of the old.

All that, and they had suddenly found themselves less the people they once thought they were, something more like microbes and bacteria, swarming around cluelessly on the surface of a discarded eggshell.

Like a supernaturally endowed pearl, hovering in the mouth of an oyster, this new and smaller planet came together, as Zane and Jay watched it, as they reeled from the unbelievable enormity of everything they were seeing now, struggled to take in everything they were now being forced to realize.

“Dude, I am so thirsty,” Jay said.

***

Here is a quick link to the only NaNoWriMo forum I've really used, more for my use than anyone else's: http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/node/1028478.