I stepped out of the front door, bracing myself against the chilly invasion of early winter winds. It was still bright outside, but I knew that wouldn’t last. Jamming my gloved hands into my sweater’s pockets, I set off for the corner shop for my daily dose of coffee and madness.
The street was wonderfully clean and quiet this early in the morning. No pesky birds. No mad rush of pedestrians pushing past each other, trying to get to somewhere from just about anywhere else. The rat race hadn’t started yet for the day. How glorious! I plugged in my earphones and sank into audio bliss.
It’s always a treat walking to the corner shop. I glanced over at the park on my right, its greenery devoid of activity. My eyes rested on the park bench next to the giant oak tree that was easily over a hundred years old. That was where Kyla and I first shared a kiss. I went into a brief reverie, thinking of all the times we had tuna sandwiches and snuggled up to each other under the oak tree. Her face came to me in a flash, other memories tiptoeing in through the small gate I had opened.
They quickly disappeared as I shook away the ghosts of memories past. No more kisses and sandwiches now. How could there be?
I carried on, thinking of what might, or could have, been. One foot followed the other, as I passed the dead-eyed populace that had decided to make an appearance. I breathed as purposefully as I could, contemplating the unnaturally harsh spectrum my existence had covered. What was the point if it all went away anyway? Why try so hard when everything just falls apart?
Why love Kyla when Kyla was as easily taken away by fate as a speck of dust by the tiniest of gusts?
I reached the corner shop, and made my way inside, carefully barricading the door as I got in.
It’s hard being in love with a zombie.
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