stories

Blood on our hands. It wasn’t until later that we learned only 1 of 50 bitten actually become zombies. How many friends did we kill?

©2009 Dianne M Williams

Blood pours from the large gash in my chest. Broken bones dangle from my shattered wrist. My spinal chord is severed. Good thing I’m dead.

©2009 brad carson

A panicked see-saw beats Morse-code for danger, as an ice cream van, evil jack-in-the-box, stalks sugar&spice at the park.

©2009 Paula Ray