Five o' Clock
I was shaving when the first zombie came crashing through the window. We’ve been running ever since, a small nucleus of humanity, picking up fellow survivors as we find them, if not quite quickly enough to replace those of us who make mistakes. There’s talk of a place in the woods, a fortified compound where we could make a go at it, but that’s a long way off.
In the action movies, the heroes who stand against the invading horde might be disheveled, but it’s always a ruggedly attractive kind of dishevelled.
Try fighting the zombies with half a beard.
Monday, November 10, 2008
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