SNOW DAY
It was like the dawn of the dead this morning. I pervasive quiet hung in the air, cars were carelessly abandoned in the middle. I trudged towards work wondering how many had been affected, infected. I turned a corner onto Northumberland Avenue and saw what must have been at least a hundred zombiefied students staggering down the middle of the road. I reached for my camera to capture the scene but then thought no, best to try and blend in. The truth is that if they'd known I had fresh brains, I would stand no chance, I had no weapon, nothing but a battered umbrella protecting me from the tainted frozen rain that continued to fall from the sky, like the ashes of humanity.My initial instinct was to head to Meadowhall, surely there would be other survivors there, and we could barricade ourselves in, an oasis of salvation. But it was too far, too risky, so I decided to head to work as normal, all the while repeating the mantra that had been broadcast over the air waves non stop for the last 10 hours - "Remove the head or destroy the brain".
Update - 10AM. We seem to have a full house at work. The only person that hasn't made it is Tim. I suspect his zombified carcas is feasting on fresh brains somewhere in Crookes.
Update - 11AM. A number of us missed breakfast. It is the most important meal of the day so rather than risk going outside for food and being infected, we decided to eat Tony Ruscoe. He tastes like chicken. Thanks Tony - Thony.
1 Comments:
And this is what my neck looked like after some developers had been munching on it... chicken, eh? Nobody calls me chicken!
NOBODY!!!!!
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