a hollow-eyed reflection in the mirror

As for BLITEOTW, it was a lot of fun once I finally got myself into the place where it was easy for me to write. I struggled getting into it for four hours Tuesday night (after my first trip to the dentist this week), and I probably rejected three or four different posts before I finally said fuck it and started something (anything). The journey of a million miles starts with a single cliché, after all.

God knows I drove Ivy nuts about it, and she got the least of my displeasure with myself and what I pompously call my work. When it’s something I think people will actually read (unlike a blog post), I’m NEVER satisfied with it. I don’t know anyone who writes (and I know more than a few published authors, and even more unpublished hobbyists) who can ever look at something they did and like it, because they can always see where something should be changed (no matter how many revisions the piece has gone through).

I loathe everything I’ve ever written, but the slow and steady trickle of praise and compliments has made the whole torturous exercise worthwhile. Thank you all for reading. I really appreciate it. I write for me, but I publish for you.

Until next zombie outbreak, I’ll be playing Endless Zombie Rampage.

BLITEOTW wrap-up

Everyone would like to think that, in a time of crisis we’d rise above our fears and become heroes, dashing heedlessly into danger with a gun in each hand and a quip on the tongue. Most of us are just cowards.

please

dontturnoffthelightsdontturnoffthelightsdontturnoffthelightsdontturnofftheli

more

shes got friends but I don’t know how many it has to be a lot of them

i can hear them groaning and slap slap slapping against the walls breaking glass breaking fingernails breaking me

i can smell them through the air conditioner sickly sweet like orchids and blood

tvs still broacasting but brian williams is going crazy you can see it in his eyes so hollow and deadcold

i wish theyd shut up i cant take all the fucking noise the cd player just makes them groan louder

not good

oh fuck oh fuck I dropped my gun out the fucking window oh fuck I’m so fucking dead it’s not even funny I was going to shoot one that came up to the back door and started pounding on it but she reached out and grabbed me and I dropped the fucking gun and now I’m fucking panicking

irregularly-scheduled program.

The last local station signed off at 2:15 this afternoon. We’re getting the New York bunker feed now. Brian Williams looks like he’s been through hell. You and me both, buddy.

we must protect this house

I couldn’t find anything worth a damn in the garage to block the windows to the front porch, but I did find pressboard enough to cover the window in the back door. I broke the legs off the kitchen table and rolled it into the living room to cover most of the front window. Put a few nails into it, and for good measure, I pushed the bed half of the sectional against it to boot.

My back is killing me now. I forgot how heavy that mother was.

Phones are finally done for. No busy signal on the house phone or the cell; not even the soothing operator.

I went around and filled up the bathtubs. The water’s out in other places, and I don’t want to take my chances.

we are in a world of shit, joker

Things are getting out of hand. Not just here.

Australia, New Zealand, Great Britain… they’re everywhere.

Look at this, on the front page of CNN.com. Still think it’s a stunt to promote a movie? Still think this is just the work of terrorists or rioters, that we should wait it out and hope that the government will restore order?

Will all due respect, fuck you, and definitely fuck them. I’ve got nowhere else to go, and I’m not going to risk traveling to Ft. Knox, when I don’t even think I can make it to the Pic-Pac and back in my car. I’ve got a little bit of food, and all our utilities are underground, so barring something major, I’ll have power for as long as I’ll need it.

Love him or hate him, Ronald Reagan was right about one thing when he said, “The nine most terrifying words in the English language are, ‘I’m from the government and I’m here to help.'”

the fading scream of a dying ambulance

Guess who realized that, less than two miles away from his house, is a hospital teeming with probably-reanimated corpses? Yeah, me. I don’t hear the sirens from Mary & Elizabeth anymore; that’s probably not a good sign. TV says they’re opening up rescue stations for the displaced at Ft. Knox, among other places. They’re, from what I can tell, trying to move people out of the city and into the old county, where there’s not as many dead people shambling around.

Yeah, right. I’ll put my faith in the government. I remember what happened during Katrina. I’m going to head out to the garage and the shed to see if we have anything I can use to board up the windows and the back door. The other windows are too high off the ground to get to.

I’ve got a gun with me, but I haven’t shot it in years. Good thing they don’t run around too much. From what I’ve seen on TV, you can pretty much walk right up to them and shoot them. You’re only fucked if you’re surrounded. They’re pretty slow, and not very smart, but I have no doubt I’ll be up to my balls in them sooner, rather than later. If I stick around here long.

Wish me luck, kids. If I live, I’ll let you know.

rock on london

Mom and Dad should’ve been home by now. Usually they’re through with the route by 11:00 or so, but it’s already well past 12 and they haven’t come home. I’m not getting an answer on either cell phone. Granted, I usually don’t get an answer because either the phones are out of area or dead, but normally I don’t have anything to worry about. Hopefully they’re staying out in the boonies, or have driven down to Campbellsville to stay with Dad’s family. I’ll keep trying anyway, even though my cell phone barely gets reception outside, let alone indoors.

I’m not even sure they could get into the city at this point.

The official crawl is for everyone to lock up their homes, stay indoors, and wait it out. Of course, that means everyone is out getting supplies and freaking the hell out. I can’t say I blame them. I’m panicking, too, and I’m just watching it all on TV.

They haven’t said anything about rescue stations or anything yet, but they have to be doing something. From the way things look, most of downtown is a war zone. Good thing I’m out in the lovely boring suburbs. Aside from the ambulances coming and going from Sts. Mary & Elizabeth Hospital, we’re nice and quiet.

It’s like nothing’s even happening outside.