Worlds Of Pain

Monday, July 20, 2020

Zombie Haiku: Summer Shuffle

Bloated and leaking

Preceded by awful smells

Zombies of summer

Turkey Vultures (buzzards) photo by VJAnderson / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)

Saturday, July 18, 2020

Zombie Cinquain Poem: Comebacks.

I punch.
He keeps coming.
I kick and he comes back.
He bites my arm, I die, and now
I'm back.

Martial artists in Martinique - photo by Dalia Del Arte / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)

Wednesday, July 15, 2020

Zombie Postcard Fiction: They will survive!

Roaches. They survived the rise of the dead just fine. You can't run a vacuum when you're surrounded by zombies. Nobody takes out the garbage.

User Preiselbeere on de.wikipedia /
CC BY-SA 2.0 DE
(https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/de/deed.en)

Saturday, July 11, 2020

Postcard Fiction: Stay Inside

"Don't go out there!"
"I don't see them."

"They're still out there."

"We can't stay."

"They'll kill you."

"I'll be careful."

"They eat careful people."

Wednesday, July 8, 2020

Zombie Haiku: Hold Your Nose

Summer smells rotten

The dead trudge through the city

roadkill on the move

Tuesday, July 7, 2020

Zombie Cinquain: Unstoppable

Nothing
can stop me now
I just keep walking and
eating and walking and eating
my lunch

A New Orleans Zombie Walk - photo by Infrogmation of New Orleans / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)

Saturday, July 4, 2020

Zombie Flash Fiction: No Free Lunches

     "Grandpa, how are we going to run this place without you?"
   The old man grimaced. He was sweating profusely now. The bites were taking their toll. He gestured feebly over to the bedroom bookshelves.
   "It's all in there," the old man whispered.
     "What grandpa?" the teen grandson asked.
     "The Constitution, the Declaration of Independence," he gasped. "All of it."
   "I've got to read all that?" the young man asked.
   "Yes," the old man replied. "But, next time, change one thing."
     "What grandpa?"
     "Next time . . ."
     "What grandpa?"
     "In these times, make everyone work."
   "OK, grandpa."
   "No free lunches."
   The old man closed his eyes. The teen placed his hands under this grandfather's nostrils. There was no breath. Soon, those eyes would open again soon. The young man's hands were trembling. He knew what must be done, but the revolver was heavy.

M1917 .45 Caliber Revolver - photo by Mcumpston (talk)Mike Cumpston / Public domain