Today on Drabble Wednesday, come spend a
day among the undead...
Fading Memories
A tangerine and cherry red sunset. The
clouds seem to dance with the colours. My mother used to say the sky gave us
fireworks to welcome the night.
I
wonder if I’ll remember her, or sunsets. When it happens. When this me is gone.
I breathe the smell of the dewy grass, and
the stink of rotting corpse. You can’t escape that smell anymore.
Damn.
Why wasn’t I more careful?
What’s careful anymore? You live until your
luck runs out. Like mine did.
I glance at the remains of mutilated
zombie, and then at its bite mark on my arm.
~*~
Eulogy
I can still hear the screams.
That’s what happens when you crash your own
funeral as a walking corpse. Not that I wanted to attend as the risen undead,
or even die for that matter, but I didn’t get a choice. A car accident cut
short my life and for the other thing...
Never have an affair with a woman who
dabbles in the occult.
Break ups get unnaturally messy.
But I did have the last say, because she screwed
up whatever the hell she did.
Now she’s dead with the rest of the funeral
party.
She was tasty though.
~*~
Return
The stench of brimstone clings to me. Even
inhabiting this corpse I can smell it. In these clothes, the hair, on the skin.
I wanted to escape Hell, not bring it with me.
I sigh.
Best ignore and keep moving.
I scurry forward, staying to the shadows. I’ve
slipped into the body of a woman, that much I know. Someone knifed in an alley,
guessing from the blood and where I woke up. At least the wound is healing.
Now I just need to avoid the bounty hunters
and kill my back-stabbing husband.
Then we can be in Hell together.
© A.
F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved
2 comments:
I'm hungry now! Very good
Thanks, Madeleine.
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