It didn’t even occur to me to pay attention

It didn’t even occur to me to pay attention to my father’s keep off the grass signs, but it should have. I realized this as soon as I stepped in the small pile Mrs. Chu's Mutt

had left behind. As I looked down I noticed the grass looked like it was fresh sod. I peeled it up in curiosity to uncover what looked like a fresh grave. Could father really be a

secret pastry chef? As I stared down at the hastily buried spatulas and frosting bags, I began to wonder what else he might keep from me. Did he really love my

cupcakes? Was it all a ruse to get to my rugula? I never knew what he saw in me, a lonely pastry chef, left to

grow stale on Flour Street. Before her date she Poppied on over to Cookie's Salon to get a nice big Bun. Cookie was a cracker, so she could really make a bun puff up. She kneaded

to escape. She lifted up the large man and to his amazement, tossed him onto the thrown. He was dirty and smelly and clearly hadn't bathed in some time. His clothes were so thin

you could see every pimple, spot and blemish that adorned his digusting, vile, enormous body. His face

was red and puffy, with white spots of pus. I didn't care. I loved that face. That body was alive, and so I hugged him, holding his face against my own.

Rivers of pus and mucus dripped down my cheeks but I held him anyway. True love is like that sometimes, even when you love a zombie. "Uraagrh" he said. "I love you too," I replied.

My pledge of love was cut short by my own scream, then choked by the rush of gurgling blood as my lover bit a chunk of my neck. He may love me, true. But he is still a zombie.