The exercise:
Write something involving zombies.
I don't know where that came from. But it's here now, so let's just all play along, okay?
Mine:
Harry had never been a very bright boy. The letter 'A' had never graced a paper he'd written or test he'd struggled through with crinkled brow and sweaty hands. He would sit at the back of his classes, quiet as a shadow and desperately hoping the teacher wouldn't place him in the glare of the teenage spotlight to answer a question that he didn't even understand, much less know the answer to.
I always figured he just had a lot of empty space where brain matter should have been. A literal 'in one ear, out the other' sort of guy.
Which is why I'm having trouble figuring out why the zombies went after him first.
And what exactly does it say about my intelligence that they're coming after me next?
6 comments:
Heh, that's a nice twist on the traditional zombie story, picking on the least able to fight back first! I particularly liked the first paragraph and the description of Harry and his fears.
Zombies
Bang! And the zombies are in.
Boom! The last of the shotgun
Shells fires uselessly at their
Heads. Nothing is stopping them
Now. Blood makes noise and they can
Hear where we're hiding at the
Top of the stairs under the
Beds.
(I know it looks a little odd, but it's written for 7/8 time and I can't think of a better way to shape it and keep that obvious.)
Marc - What a coincidence! This morning I was surfing the apple app store on my Iphone and there was this game “zombie farm”.
The idea is that you could farm everything else with add-on “various types of zombie”. Strange enough, initially I just wanted to find something that can teach me about farming and this came up :)
Greg - I think it is good enough :)
Mine:
I had this strange dream one day. It is about a world that is dreadfully corrupted. Everywhere in the streets is in a mess, chaos, beyond words could describe.
All the building in the streets collapse, pieces of window glasses spread all over the place just like water droplets. A group of green awful looking zombies overturned almost all the vehicles in that area.
They move around slowly, destroying everything before their eyes, looking unfazed even under attacked and seemingly immune to all kinds of firepower. They just keep on destroying things mindlessly without any pain or fear. I just wish that I had their courage but in the right mind. When they move closer and closer towards me, the fear inside of me keep increasing as I breathe in and out heavily. I can feel the heat and sweat on my forehead as I struggle to get away from those scary zombie.
Next moment, I found myself lying in my bed and it was time to go to school.
I can't stand zombies. Or vampires. I don't understand the current fascination in society for the undead. Perhaps it is a fear that our society and culture are collapsing around us, a sense that nothing is safe, not even that great certainty, death.
As the environment we unknowingly damaged collapses around us, and we realize we must cope and adjust or die, we retreat into fantasy where silver bullets save the day and when it's too scary we turn off the movie.
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Not my usual stuff here, I know, but it's what came to mind.
Marc- So, what does it say about your intelligence or are you no longer around to respond to that? Great story!
Greg- It's time to run!
Zhongming- Love the imagery of broken glass and water droplets. Beautifully done.
Morgana- What an interesting view point. I will need to ponder this longer.
Marc- I need a prompt that leads me into fiction again. Trying to remember the last one I submitted here. Another non-fiction piece:
------
It started as a small patch of particularly nasty ones. We weren't that concerned. It wasn't the first time we had let down our guard and things had slipped beyond easy control. Together, my husband and I implemented the old precautions. It didn't work and the nasty ones beget smaller, weaker versions of themselves which quickly grew into new threats.
We called in the specialists, each with his own thought on how to best proceed. All of their advice failed. Worry and doubt became second nature as we continued to work through person after person, all who claimed to have the answer to stop the erupting population. My son began a new mantra that he said every time he felt surrounded by the beasts, "I want to kill the zombies."
We laughed hysterically at our small son, but understood his frustration. After all, they had targeted him unlike anything anyone had ever seen. "Scabies," the most recent doctor had said.
"Yes," my son replied, "Zombies."
------
By the way, it wasn't Scabies. All the work and no result so we were back at the drawing board again.
Feet scrape as lazy legs drag them across the pavement. I finally understand what he means by “Death March to Baatan.” The heat has sucked all of the life out of us as we attempt to prepare for our performance. Older students try to keep the energy up, but more and more students fall to the side lines dehydrated. Those left on the field march around lifeless, like zombies. The sun beats down upon our backs; we have no escape from its oppression on our barren, open field. More freshmen crumple off of the desert; even older members falter. Today is lost to the undead.
Greg - 'Blood makes noise and they can hear where we're hiding...'
*shudder*
Zhongming - that's an extremely vivid dream! I'd have trouble sleeping after that one.
Morganna - not your usual, but definitely well written. A refreshing change of pace - I liked that a lot.
Heather - tomorrow I will try to come up with a prompt that requires fiction, just for you :)
That was... sadly cute? Adorably sad? Either way, I can't help but smile thinking of him saying that.
Samantha - that's a great scene with some wonderful descriptions! Great stuff :)
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