Zombies walk the streets, and but for a splash of green here and there, no one knows who or where they are. We are told to trust no one. It is quite difficult to stay casual on the street when anyone I meet could be out for my flesh, and the slightest odd behavior might immediately alert the hunting dead to my status as a food source. Even my practice of keeping my hand on the trigger of the Nerf six-shooter in my purse might arouse suspicion.
I have taken to surreptitiously eyeballing trees to figure out which ones I could climb easily in case of an attack. If I can make it out of the library without attracting the attention of the zombie girl sitting a dozen yards away, I will consider myself lucky.
This is the time of suspicion. Tomorrow, all hell breaks loose.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
If you run into Donald Sutherland, don't stop to say hello; act casual and get the hell out of there!
Post a Comment