It was… oh, man. I can’t even describe it. It was like a weird dream.
I woke up at 3 o’clock. I was thirsty, so I went downstairs into the kitchen to grab myself a glass of water. And that’s where I saw it.
It was about 6 foot tall, wearing a plaid shirt and filthy jeans. It looked like something out of a bad horror movie. It was something out of a bad horror movie. It was a zombie.
Don’t judge me for screaming. You would’ve done the same.
So, yeah. Naturally I ran the fuck out of there. I got about a block away when my cell phone went off. I didn’t recognize the number, but I figured if someone calling this early it must have been an emergency. I answered the call.
“Hello?” I said.
“Yeah, hi,” came a coarse voice down the phone. “Did you just run the fuck out of the house?”
“Who is this?” I asked.
“It’s Gerald,” came the reply. “Your housemate?”
Oh, shit. I’d forgotten about him.
“The zombie?” he continued. The penny dropped.
Jesus. Living in the monster district is tougher than I thought.