A Bloody Good Time

The sunlight offends me. Squinting at the windows, indecently trying to get in. I hiss at the flickering blinds. The impertinence of it! The breeze and a slight buzzing have broken my slumber- yet I shall not be roused…

Only I’m so thirsty. So hungry. A gnawing ache twists and turns. A tremble fills the void. I cannot remember the last time I had serious sustenance. Groaning, I creak from my abode.

Creeping across the landing, desperate not to wake the others, I shield my eyes as I pass the hall mirror. I dare not look; I will not like what I see. I ought to smash the damn thing- it is a constant reminder of what I am now. Of what creature I have become.

Instead, my eyes snag on the insect suspiciously resting by the window pane… and I make a run for it. Bolting for cover. Sprinting down the stairs, I make it, gracelessly, to what we used to call the living area (it has other uses now, we don’t talk about it).

Eyes closed to the endless equipment we’ve been “gifted” by our gracious overlords, I make it through. Careless of the noise now, because I’ve not seen a soul in days and it’s pretty hard to wake the undead.

Into the pantry I go. Open a cupboard and… We’re completely out of supplies. Completely. I curse myself for I am an accursed fool. Foolish not to brave the streets yesterday- before we ran out. Before the news broke.

Not just the food is gone- but the cleaning products, the hand sanitiser and the toilet rolls. And now the killer bees are at the door too…

Oh well, looks like it’s just another day in 2020!