Zombie Diaries (© Tony Sandy)
Page 2 Inner life? I don't have an inner life. My attention
span has gone, so books are out of the question - besides I can't turn
individual pages (as I say, delicate movement has gone). I remember some poor
guy trying to imitate someone reading. The book fell to bits in his hands. It
was almost as funny as this zombie trying to have sex with another zombie (a
half remembered activity from another time - like a child trying to act like an
adult and failing miserably or a monkey mimicking a human). The strangest part
was the zombie woman, who first of all ignored his advances, then tried to push
him off as she got on with eating a passing stranger. Then a light of
recognition seemed to flicker inside her as she realized what he was trying to
do. She turned towards him, took his face in her hands and bit him. He soon
got the message as much as if they were a live couple - not tonight darling,
I'm dining out with friends. I have to watch myself. I have this old habit of picking
at my skin, when nervous. I stripped the flesh off my left arm one night (lose
bit and I pulled until it reached my elbow). Won't do that again. Forgot it
doesn't grow back anymore. I feel drunk all the time. It's like I stagger all over
the place, hardly able to control my movements. The worst thing is the
permanent hangover aspect of it all (the stomach permanently out of sorts and
the headache). I want to poke my fingers into my eyes, just to get at the
source of the pain but I know it would blind me and there's nothing worse than
being a blind, hungry zombie. Talking of fine dining and alcohol, I sometimes wish I
were a vampire. They at least can walk into a restaurant without anyone
batting an eye - me, I'd have to shuffle round the back and dig through the
bins, for something to eat as tramps wouldn't get through the front door. 'No tie sir and no skin on your left arm. Sorry we
cannot let you in like that, besides which the smell of decaying flesh would
put the other diners off.' I can hear it all now. Vampires however could
drink delicate flavoured red wine and get away with it. Eating though might be
a problem. Steak, rare, with blood oozing out. How could they resist the urge
to pick it up and suck it dry? Us monsters always show ourselves up in refined
company. I of course shouldn't be in the ranks of the decaying. With my
breeding really I should be underground, only coming out at night to dine on
the best necks in town. Alas it was not meant to be. Werewolves. I always keep an eye on the moon in case
it's full. I remember one band of zombies I came upon, who'd obviously thought
they'd cornered a nice, juicy meal out in the open, when it turned out that it
had cornered and opened them up instead (No blood but plenty of guts and limbs
spread everywhere). I remember one poor fellow - his decapitated head, still
blinking in disbelief at what had just happened. It's a disgusting, pain filled life but I have no choice,
except to lead it. I could kill myself and I've seen the results of, some of
the recently turned - heads torn off, when they tried to hang themselves.
Others still 'alive' but smashed up, when they stood in front of a train or
lorry (glancing blow survivors). Standing head on was very effective as you
can imagine - spectacular even. Humpty-Dumpty had a great Fall but getting hit
by a truck took the Spring out of his step, leaving him with egg all over his face.
The good thing though is that it did bring him out of his shell. When I say we have no inner life as you can see that
isn't strictly true. I've seen zombies who were as daft as my dogs, before I
ate them. Trying to negotiate a narrow gap, instead of turning sideways as any
normal monster would do, they'd keep trying to go through, head on. Bash,
bash, bash without learning a thing. I wanted to just grab their shoulders and
turn them forty five degrees but I'd already found that didn't work as they'd
then go in the direction they were now orientated in. They were like these
toys that used to bounce off the skirting board, turn and head in a new
direction ad infinitum or like mindless zombies, which of course is what they
were. I suppose the fact I started off more educated and well brought up, put
me at a distinct advantage over my fellow dead-heads (I'd got further to fall,
more to lose). [ Continue to page 3 ] |