It has been a very long time since I posted anything. To make up for it, I will do some freewriting involving zombies.
It was a dark and stormy night. Rain pelted the windshield, refusing to let me sleep. On and on and on. I needed to sleep, why wouldn't it let me sleep? I NEED SLEEP, LET ME SLEEP, YOU STUPID RAIN!
Calm down. It's only rain. It's not doing this to you on purpose, it doesn't know that you have to sleep to keep up your energy so you can fight.
Well, while you're up, you might as well clean your weapons, no one likes a bloody axe, after all. That makes sense. I climb into the back of the pickup truck and pick up my axe. I named it Maybel. Maybel has decapitated several undead monsters in the past few days. Good Maybel.
Everyone else is alseep. That's not surprising; we had a right good fight today.
BAM!! Zombie at the window, we're all awake now. John starts the car and we drive off.
We ride in silence. It's not awkward, though. We all have so much to think about that we don't mind silence so much anymore. I'm thinking about the last time I ate. It was probably at least two days ago. We haven't been able to stop for food lately, you know, with the ZOMBIES and everything. Goodness, I'm hungry. What I wouldn't give for a feast, a real feast. Something spectacular, with beef and turkey and pie and potatoes and carrots and more pie. Wait a minute...
We missed Thanksgiving.
How could we have missed Thanksgiving? It is one of the greatest food holidays of all time! Plus, we have plenty to be thankful for: we're alive, aren't we?
"John, we missed Thanksgiving."
"We missed Thanksgiving."
"And that's important because....?"
"Because we freaking missed Thanksgiving! We missed turkey! We missed PIE!"
"Are you completely insane?"
"We need to stop and find food. We are going to have a proper feast."
"You want me to stop the truck, so that you can go outside, at night, in the middle of a zombie infestation, to look for food. Is that correct?"
"You are crazy."
"John, we need to have Thanksgiving."
"I'm not stopping the truck."
At this point, everyone in the truck is pretty distressed because I brought up Thanksgiving and John is being a total jerk and not stopping the truck. Stella looks like she has half a mind to stop the truck herself. Marcus is looking mournfully down at his belly. Titan is walking around in circles wimpering. He's a dog, so he doesn't understand English, but I'm pretty sure he knows that we're arguing about getting food.
John is being a total jerk.
Was that a turkey? I thought I saw a wild turkey out the window.
"John, stop right now. STOP STOP STOP!!!"
John slams on the brakes.
"What, what is it?"
"Wha-HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST YOUR MIND?!"
It's too late to stop me. I have seen food with my own eyes, and it will be mine. I will kill it with my bare hands if need be. I quickly cover the distance between me and the turkey, visions of stuffing dancing in my head.
Immediately, I know that something is wrong. There is something weird about this turkey. It didn't even try to run, and it's not struggling right now. Plus its eyes, it has weird, milky looking eyes. Are it's feathers falling out? What the heck? Then it hits me:
Needless to say, I high-tailed it out of there. Now there is zombie poultry? What is this world coming to? All I wanted was Thanksgiving.
Yeah, so I didn't know how to end that. Maybe I will do some more freewriting with zombies later.