27 Feb

27 Feb

Don’t even know why I’m spending time writing this.

No good news on the wife front. She seems to be worse, if that’s even possible. Lies there moaning and panting from the heat. I can feel it radiating off her when I get close to her! She’s burning up and there’s sweet f.a. I can do about it.

I feel so helpless. So useless. Where’s this damn cure they were promising before? Why isn’t anybody doing anything?

I bet the Prime Minister and his family have been vaccinated by now. What’s the bet the Queen is sitting on some tropical beach as far away from sick people as she can get, sipping on vaccine-laced pina coladas.

I’m holed up here in my shitty little flat, surrounded by the walking dead and watching my wife slip into a coma, only to wake up what? A flesh eating monster? No, not my wife. She’ll come right. She has to.

None of this would have happened if those damned greenies had left that damn pharmaceutical lab alone.

Oh please, don’t let this happen to her.

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Posted by on 27 February in Zombie Philes


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