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body of their former boss was. One of them reached out, fondling the corpse's pant leg before wrapping his drooling mouth around the ankle. "Mmm..." he said, "tastes like -
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The hulking black man in the corner stood, nearly touching the ceiling. The man almost ran to the bars of the cell in panic, but then retracted the thought realizing his back side
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as they flew across the office. The staples stuck in everything they touched, be it the corkboard or the back or the poor intern's head who had happened to
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the fat, black lady across from him. He had the same hair and nose, and that strange sweater his mother had given him for Christmas that had the nasty, pear-shaped stain on the
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had become a serious problem. He had laughed it off when the shoes became tight enough to kill a small child, but now there wasn't even a snicker. He pleaded silently
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had been planning an intervention, but so far I had successfully avoided their efforts. Folding another strip over my teeth, I watched from the window as my brother battled
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so he pulled the trigger. A line of bullets ripped though the little balls of zombie fur--their torsos exploding into small puffs of red gore. "Get the toupee!" he screamed.
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Snow fell on the decrepit buildings like white ash, reminescent of a violent, dirty time in their past. I stood and gazed at them in the cold, hoping to not linger long.