I wrote you a zombie story. I hope you enjoy it.
Zombie Girl in a Pale Red Dress Dancing With Me
ShaunsList.net Missed Connections:
Zombie girl in a pale red dress dancing with me Halloween, 2010:
I can’t believe I’m doing this. Maybe this isn’t the place to get so personal. I mean, I know who reads these things. If I were a smart guy… Forget it. If I were a smart guy I wouldn’t be in this situation.
And where else am I supposed to say this? It’s not like I get out much. I mean, I had my shots, like we all did once they realized what was going on. I just should have had mine sooner. Anyway. I don’t meet a lot of people, not anymore. You left an impression.
Look, I still have a heart, okay?
We met at the Downtown Zombie Crawl. The bar on the corner of Fremont and Romero.
You were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. The kind of beautiful that people would have noticed even before, well, before everything. By some miracle, you asked me to dance. The only reason I can think of for that is you must have thought I was wearing makeup.
And yeah, I wish I had been. That way you’d think I was cool and subversive, like you. The kind of guy who could laugh at the worst viral outbreak ever, use it as an excuse to party, not just some idiot who went to the doctor one day too late.
That’s not the point. The point is, you asked me to dance. You held my hand through all the classics: “Dead Man’s Party,” “Living Dead Girl,” even “Thriller.” I was so happy, I would have smiled, but my bottom lip is starting to rot. As it is, the last joint of my pinkie fell off while we were dancing. I hope you didn’t notice.
I didn’t care. I mean, a girl like you, dancing with me.
I can’t even remember the last time I touched someone.
You had on this dress. Red. Like that cheesy song. It kind of twirled when you spun around. When you were close to me, all I could smell was flowers, not even a trace of rot, so you must have gotten your shots on time.
Your makeup was really good. When I first saw you, I thought you were like me.
I know you’re not, and you probably won’t answer this. You probably won’t even read it, because why would a girl like you need to read the Missed Connections section of a zombie dating service?
And I know zombie isn’t the politically correct term, but I know what I am. It’s why I only leave my house one night a year, and why I didn’t give you my number, even when you asked for it. Well, that, and the necrosis is getting worse. I’m not going to be able to talk soon.
So I guess I have to say something now, if I’m ever going to. Not because I’m trying to find you, I’m not. My brain still works, and I know this is a horror story, not a fairy tale.
But you were beautiful, and you asked me to dance, and you made me remember that, for now, I still have a heart.