jetzer

Prose piece, first person perspective of the undead apocalypse.  Written in a journal by one man surviving, just barely, at ground zero for the epidemic. Action heavy and serious. Part of a continuing series. March 14th, 6 pm Ate my last can of food today.  Been eating dog food the past week.  Tried mixing the last package of beef ramen with it.  Threw it out after choking down half the sludge. Now, wish I'd kept it.  The chicken and  vegetables Fido Feast wasn't so bad, but I'm sure that "Beef Delight" I just swallowed down is more closely  related to My Little Pony than

false is the glue that bind friends together. honesty's fine, but secrets are better. there's the stories you know and those that are told it's the warmest invention that makes you feel cold. Because nothing is static with feelings involved. But my love will remain as my loves are dissolved.

I shed no tears for you who sleep, nor for the clay that breathes no more; for why should any faithful weep for one who suffers nevermore? These tears are for those left behind, for us who must remain alone, deprived of light nor hopeful sign, long waiting for our journey home. The years of life creep slowly by while we await our coming end, yet not a day marks those who die, who with the angels Christ attend. With spirit tongues, you sing of hope, in song eternal life proclaim, in vain attempt to help us cope with never seeing you again. Your joy cannot to earth descend, nor douse bereavement's wicked bite, so pray instead