The mythicalness of this wonderful dress

The mythicalness of this wonderful dress I found just made my day. Who could have left it for me, just lying there on my bed? I don't live with anyone so who could it be? I wonder

Was it flammable or could it be washed easily?

WWHHHHHOOOOOMPH! There was little anyone could do, let alone answer that final question. At first, shocked silence. Then: "Marshmallows, anyone?"

No one like that shit. No one replied. Silenece again seemed unbreakable.

The silent rule was that no one should joke during the apocalypse, especially about a death. Everyone glared at the man who'd spoken. He said nervously, "W-what's up, g-guys?"

"Oh not a thing, except that guys head just exploded. YOU goddamned animal!" He looked at his feet and held his hands nervously. "S-sorry... I ca..." She waggled her finger at him

learn how to treat dead people with more respect." I frowned at the corner's walls, but was secretly glad that I wasn't cleaning up the bloody mess. I could hear her mopping and

crunching on Doritos. Once again, I opened the door to reprimand the coroner. "For the last time," I shouted, "stop eating over the bodies!"

Years passed; I took a Government job; married a Senator’s daughter; who birthed 18 kids. At the coroner’s funeral, when I gazed at him in the casket, all I could see was...crumbs.