“I try to speak, but all that comes out is a guttural moan.
I reach out to take her hand, but my movements are stiff and jerky.
She shrinks away from me, screaming, and I can’t blame her. She saw me buried, she mourned my loss. What she doesn’t realize, what she can’t realize, is the amazing boost my mental faculties have received. I have all the intelligence any man could ever want… trapped inside a shambling corpse of a body.
I love her. I need her. I need her to understand.
The crunch of her skull as I bite through to her brain silences her screams. From my saliva the virus spreads. With the consumption of just a part of her brain, I know her better than fifteen years of marriage had revealed of intimacy.
She slumps to the floor. In a day, maybe two, she will be one of us, and we will be reunited.
I chew on her flesh absently, thinking on the happy reunion to come. All that’s left to do is wait, and now I have all the time in the world, and therefore all the patience.”
another story i won’t be writing.
listening to: the whir of my desk fan and the silence of the house