Read Online Tamberlin's Account by Jaime Munt - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jaime Munt
Tags: Zombies
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ways—to switch it up I can choose between two people I'd hate to be stuck with or two people that I think it might be okay—most often I go fictional.
- or -
I can change how many people are involved. Or have groups like: Would I rather be in a zombie apocalypse if I HAD to—with the Golden Girls or the Designing Women ?
I'm sure you got it before the example.
There are worse things I could think about.
Worse things I could do with my time.
Most days I take out my photos and spend some time on the importance of remembering.
Nov 3 1:49am
I parked by a couple of broke down/abandoned vehicles. Car's almost out of gas. Making sounds like "Gug" "Gug" "Gug" and the fuel light's been on for a while. Didn't want to wander around in the dark. Have had the nagging feeling that I am not alone.
Will take care of it in the morning.
I wish I knew where I'm going to end up so I knew to head there.
Lewis Carroll wrote, “If you don’t know where you are going, any road will get you there.”
I guess that’s okay, as long as it’s southbound.
Nov 5 9:53pm
While the sun was setting I couldn’t see anything on the hillside, even though it was jet black against the hot yellow light.
When twilight cast that reality blurring bluish gray half night over the everlasting unfamiliar I wasn’t sure what I was seeing.
But when night fell I was certain, below the faintest whisper of smoke was a distant campfire. A fire so small and far away it twinkled like a star.
How I wonder what you are.
Nov 6 4:26am
I found a busy body in a hatchback about 15 minutes ago. My flashlight caught the movement before I heard it thumping inside. Mr. Ages’ bark sounded like bad brakes, getting louder and fast as we approached.
The busy body inside was pacing like a tiger in a cage.
I didn’t want to think it then, but I am willing to write it now—based on the items I could see through the glass, sleeping bag and pack, flashlight, hiking stick, and a baseball bat, I think he was just like me.
There was a roll of duct tape amongst the possessions and some of the sheets he’d taped up on the windows were even still up—in the front, where he apparently never wandered.
I saw a bite on his arm, but he was half-dressed and I couldn’t see any others. All the other wounds were just from his flesh rotting.
He didn’t stop moving, but he did move faster. Somehow his dead eyes never left me, even as his path forced him to turn his back on me. I must have been seeing things.
Nov 7 8:20pm
Another early morning. Yuck.
But I was too nervous to stay asleep.
I watched the sun set from an overpass. Watched the three dimensional world transform into silhouette.
All too soon, with impossible speed, the night engulfed the day in perfect, tar thick darkness.
It was at this point when I saw the UFO. Its silvery pot pie shaped mass floated toward me over the trees, making sounds a child would make for a ghost, only higher. Its movements were as realistic as fake boobs.
…
…
…in other words—nothing happened today worth writing.
Nov 8 4:51pm
I caught myself feeling good today. We were just walking and that’s exactly what it felt like we were doing. Just walking. That at any driveway I should sense we were home and go there.
I realized I was singing to myself, Crossroads by Matisyahu, like in his Acoustic Sessions of Spark Seeker . And somehow—I found perfect harmony with the world—as is. His work can make a person feel that way.
Anyway, it was…….uplifting.
How can I describe how amazing it felt to feel, if only for a moment, that everything was normal?
Good Lord.
I took so much for granted.
Nov 14 9:34pm
The moonlight struck every hump of the rolling and rising country road before me. Only for that moonlight did I see the thriving nightmare pour over the greatest of the hills.
A slow moving wave ate up the black top still shiny from an earlier rain shower. I imagined it like a tsunami—a wall of death that was
- or -
I can change how many people are involved. Or have groups like: Would I rather be in a zombie apocalypse if I HAD to—with the Golden Girls or the Designing Women ?
I'm sure you got it before the example.
There are worse things I could think about.
Worse things I could do with my time.
Most days I take out my photos and spend some time on the importance of remembering.
Nov 3 1:49am
I parked by a couple of broke down/abandoned vehicles. Car's almost out of gas. Making sounds like "Gug" "Gug" "Gug" and the fuel light's been on for a while. Didn't want to wander around in the dark. Have had the nagging feeling that I am not alone.
Will take care of it in the morning.
I wish I knew where I'm going to end up so I knew to head there.
Lewis Carroll wrote, “If you don’t know where you are going, any road will get you there.”
I guess that’s okay, as long as it’s southbound.
Nov 5 9:53pm
While the sun was setting I couldn’t see anything on the hillside, even though it was jet black against the hot yellow light.
When twilight cast that reality blurring bluish gray half night over the everlasting unfamiliar I wasn’t sure what I was seeing.
But when night fell I was certain, below the faintest whisper of smoke was a distant campfire. A fire so small and far away it twinkled like a star.
How I wonder what you are.
Nov 6 4:26am
I found a busy body in a hatchback about 15 minutes ago. My flashlight caught the movement before I heard it thumping inside. Mr. Ages’ bark sounded like bad brakes, getting louder and fast as we approached.
The busy body inside was pacing like a tiger in a cage.
I didn’t want to think it then, but I am willing to write it now—based on the items I could see through the glass, sleeping bag and pack, flashlight, hiking stick, and a baseball bat, I think he was just like me.
There was a roll of duct tape amongst the possessions and some of the sheets he’d taped up on the windows were even still up—in the front, where he apparently never wandered.
I saw a bite on his arm, but he was half-dressed and I couldn’t see any others. All the other wounds were just from his flesh rotting.
He didn’t stop moving, but he did move faster. Somehow his dead eyes never left me, even as his path forced him to turn his back on me. I must have been seeing things.
Nov 7 8:20pm
Another early morning. Yuck.
But I was too nervous to stay asleep.
I watched the sun set from an overpass. Watched the three dimensional world transform into silhouette.
All too soon, with impossible speed, the night engulfed the day in perfect, tar thick darkness.
It was at this point when I saw the UFO. Its silvery pot pie shaped mass floated toward me over the trees, making sounds a child would make for a ghost, only higher. Its movements were as realistic as fake boobs.
…
…
…in other words—nothing happened today worth writing.
Nov 8 4:51pm
I caught myself feeling good today. We were just walking and that’s exactly what it felt like we were doing. Just walking. That at any driveway I should sense we were home and go there.
I realized I was singing to myself, Crossroads by Matisyahu, like in his Acoustic Sessions of Spark Seeker . And somehow—I found perfect harmony with the world—as is. His work can make a person feel that way.
Anyway, it was…….uplifting.
How can I describe how amazing it felt to feel, if only for a moment, that everything was normal?
Good Lord.
I took so much for granted.
Nov 14 9:34pm
The moonlight struck every hump of the rolling and rising country road before me. Only for that moonlight did I see the thriving nightmare pour over the greatest of the hills.
A slow moving wave ate up the black top still shiny from an earlier rain shower. I imagined it like a tsunami—a wall of death that was
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