Drabble: Five o' Clock

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.