My Own Zombie Apocalypse

I stand on the carport of what used to be the house of my paternal grandparents in Louisiana. Suddenly, I am surrounded by a swarm of living dead human beings, all of who are demanding my brain. They are advancing on me. I reach into my pockets for any object to fight them off with. Thankfully, I still have my Streamlight Pro Tac Flashlight. They advance on me, but as each one comes, I activate the strobe feature. They shield their eyes and I strike their temples or their windpipes with the scalloped bezel of my flashlight. Five zombies engage me. Five zombies fall to their deaths. I am still outnumbered though and realize I can’t keep on fighting them. My Dr. Scholls walking shoes and Swiss Gear backpack which contains my LG smartphone, my glasses, my house key and, my medication are all inside my grandparents’ house which is surrounded by a whole army of zombies. More and more are also walking out of their graves. They wish to rule this otherwise peaceful neighborhood for whatever reason. Reluctantly, I leave these items behind and decide to evacuate on foot, even barefoot. I walk to the house I am renting from an elderly lady. She lets me in, but I tell her how I have to leave. She demands my key. It’s in my backpack. She then falls asleep, so I grab as many tee shirts and undergarments as I can stuff in my pants pockets, then continue running out of the neighborhood and onto the main highway. I walk along the main highway and hold my thumb out. I hear Florida is a safe haven from the zombies, so I try to flag down a truck driver that’s headed there or at least in that direction. Suddenly an old fisherman drives by on a golf cart and holds a pistol to my head. I keep calm then remember an old Israeli martial arts technique then take the pistol from him. I then aim for his back and fire several shots. However, only BBs come out of the gun’s muzzle and they bounce off his back. He then pulls out a crossbow and shoots me in my left thigh. The extra shirts and drawers in my pocket keep the arrow from going in too deep, so I pull it out and bleed only slightly in my leg. I take the arrow and prepare to plunge it in that old man’s jugular vein, but then he offers me a fish hook, some line, bait and some cleaned Redfish flesh, claiming that it was all a test and that I passed. I still don’t trust him in the least. I have an overwhelming suspicion that the fish he gave me is laced with poison. I depart from him and start walking towards the Interstate when I wake up…I look at my G-Shock wristwatch. It’s 3:50 in the morning. I realize I have church in a few hours, so I soon fall back asleep.

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