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August 20, 2005

Michele: And Out of the Darkness

I heard the crash, but I’d spent the day burying bodies and was too tired to investigate.

When I finally rolled out of bed, I saw the grill of an Impala in my living room. The driver was slumped over the steering wheel. My postman, a feral dog and a small child were making quick work of his skin and bones.

The kid looked at me, sized me up and went back to chewing on the driver’s cheek.

A few days ago, I might have run or screamed. Not today.

You’ve seen one post-plague zombie dinner, you’ve seen ‘em all.

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