text: Urrrrgh. Mmmmm. Guuuuh. That's mainly what my vocabulary consists of these days, grunts and groans, ever since I became a member of the walking dead, an undead, a zombie, you know, they were all the rage before they were actually a thing, I mean a real thing. I don't really remember how it happened. Memory's not exactly what it used to be. I'm guessing it has something to do with the lack of oxygen and natural decay. Honestly, I'm surprised I'm as... uh, what was the word? Well, I'm surprised I can manage with this much as it is. I'm a zombie now, and quite frankly, it sucks. There's no T.V., no books, no entertainment of any sort. We mostly just shamble around all day, I suppose it's good exercise. I've probably walked around more in the last couple of weeks than I have in my entire life. My calves would be impressive if one of them wasn't already half decomposed. Yeah, I'm one of those slow zombies, not a runner, even as a zombie I'm a loser. Sigh... Enough of the self-deprecating! Today's the day! I know it! I'm finally going to die. I don't know what the fuck some of these other zombies are on about with the brains, brains, brains bullshit. I hope you imagined the words brains, brains, brains being said all slow and real slurred like those zombies say. It kind of defeats the point or ruins the imagery if you don't imagine it like that. What was I on about? Oh, yes, the brains. Some zombies go gaga over that shit, but it tastes fucking awful, it's not cooked or anything. And there's absolutely no seasoning, not even a pinch of salt! Today's the day I'll die. Been trying to off myself since I became a zombie. I don't know if you've guessed already but being a zombie is kind of fucking awful. It's like living but worse somehow. Imagine that! But it's pretty hard to off yourself when you have the muscle strength of a toddler. What I wouldn't give for a tall cliff. If I slept, which I don't, and if I dreamed I know I would dream of shambling off the edge of a cliff and falling to my permanent death. I literally cannot express to you how much joy the very thought of it gives me. That's how much, nothing compares. So today I finally found some hope in my miserable life, a group of a humies, humans, (I thought I should at least be allowed to give a fun nickname to them since they always gave them to us and since I no longer am one of them anyway.) were scavenging a convenient store and I just happened to be nearby enough to hear them. I thought this was my chance, that surely one of them would have a gun, or a crowbar, or a baseball bat, or whatever that could finally end me. I hunched my shoulders all creepy-like and shambled over in the way I normally do and started making that I'm a zombie please kill me sound. I imagine it to sound both like a dying and crying animal of some sort. I was getting closer to the entrance way. This was finally my big day. And I'm in! And I look around to see the entire place empty. What the hell?! A door swivels closed at the opposite end of the store. A back entrance! What kind of convenience store has a back entrance!? What kind of badass survivors of a post-apocalyptic wasteland run away from a single zombie!? It was probably the groan, it was too menacing, I'll just sneak up on them all quiet-like next time. I do hope there's a next time. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ ​ The concept is basically a zombie keeps on trying to get itself killed but it never works out. I'm sure you've already realized, it's like the opposite of a zombie survival guide, haha, aren't jokes funny. Don't really need a critique, just interested in first impressions.