A Short Story by Bruce Memblatt
Copywright 2011 by Bruce Memblatt
For all the partials out there…
Previously published at Death Head Grin
I found him in the street, shaggy, befuddled and the answer to my prayers. He turned me into a zombie. He fucked me over with his sassy smile and his bohemian ways. I didn’t know I wanted to be a zombie until I found myself doing this cool stuff like eating the flesh off of the cheerleaders at school, or scaring the shit out of the cops. Anyway, his name is Brandon, just plain Brandon, no middle or last, like Beyonce. I call him Bran. We’re tight, like special, we share secrets. My name is Becky. Yeah, I know you’re going to say Becky and Brandon how cute, but it isn’t like that, it’s never cute. It’s hot like flesh. It’s bad. We are bad. He stays in my room. My parents haven’t found out. Good thing, because if they did Bran would make me eat their flesh, and I would. I would do anything for Bran, anything, like tonight.