Thursday, October 23, 2008

Untitled - Part 6

So far.


She picked up the phone and listened to the dial tone for a moment.

“Who was that?” asked her son.

“Nobody,” she answered. “A wrong number.”

“Was it Dad?”


“Where is he?”

“He’ll be home soon.” She began putting away groceries. Soup. Oreos. Green peppers. A bottle of wine.


zombie rotten mcdonald said...

Not enough zombies.

Or did I break the mood?

Jennifer said...

Oh nice, RM.

Snag said...

How do you know they aren't zombies?

fish said...

Because zombies hate Oreos. It is the test we use post apocalypse to tell us from them.