The Zombies Are Here

The zombies are here.

He wasn’t surprised. Not eating brains. Yet. No. Just a matter of time. Someone will probably tell them that eating brains will save them from the coronavirus or something. He wouldn’t put it past them.

He’d been expecting the zombies for a while. They’d quit thinking several years ago. Clearly were unthinking and undead, not caring about anything except themselves and the undermining of their so-called freedoms.

What else could they be but zombies? Living in such an alternative world, believing ridiculous conspiracy theories for which proof wasn’t offered. Well, okay, sometimes they tried to put up some ‘proof’ – or their idea of it – but then it was shot down. You know, like masks don’t work. Vaccines will magnetize you. The coronavirus is a hoax. No worse than the flu. There’s a secret child sex ring on Mars. Trump is still secretly POTUS. And take ivermectin for the virus that doesn’t exist, that’s no worse than the flu. Now they were trying to blame Biden for Afghanistan. Biden, who has been in office for seven months, who took office twenty years after the war in that poor country began.

Yep, the zombies are here.

Betrayal

Had happened before. Wouldn’t bet against it again. Always without a hint. Always from unexpected direction.

This time, it was below. A knee went off on an excursion. He was walking up steps. Not hurrying. Nothing special. But that knee took a detour to the right. An action that almost threw him back down the stairs. Made him grab the handrail and gasp. Pause to breath. Swallow pain. Yeah, and fear.

Others saw. “You okay?”

He nodded. Not sure what they saw. “Just.” Didn’t know how to explain it. Didn’t want to. “Caught my toe. Tripped myself.”

They were looking. Mute. Knew what had happened. Understood why he lied. Nodded. Accepting.

Continued on.

He followed. Betrayed by his body again. Worried that another betrayal was imminent. Maybe not a knee. Maybe memory. Or cognitive process. Damn body. No long trustworthy.

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