Zombie Postcard Fiction: Another wet wipe!

"Before they went dead, the news said they have to bite you to infect."

"But, he drooled on me."

"No bite though?"

"No.  Just hand me another wet wipe."

"We're all out."

Photo by Carl Campbell / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)

Zombie Flash Fiction: Forever Walking

Sleepless.  Tired.  Wired.  Hungry. Parched.  We pressed onward. Just climb the ridge. Just follow the road.  Walking west forever. My shoes were almost worn out.  I hadn’t showered.  I didn’t care.  I didn’t even want to remember eating.  My thoughts were a jumble of memories of the world that used to be.  The news reports of the spreading virus were a fading blur.  Ahead was the army. Soldiers.  Relief.  Shock!  Why shoot at us?

Photo by Rodrigo Fernández / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)