The one where I get attacked by zombies

The days slowly creep toward the horrible moment when there will no longer be a World Cup to occupy my time. Two people have already asked me what I’ll do when it’s over once again. It won’t be pretty that’s for sure.

Yesterday after the Brazil v. Netherlands match I had some time on my hands. To be exact I had about 2 and half hours. After reading the paper (yes those still exist!) and then went for a walk. I went down Coventry and then turned down one of the side streets. I had my camera but the walk was mostly just to get out of the house.

I snapped these for some reason:



Those were lying in the little alley road between whatever and Mayfield. I had turned up the alley meaning to cut across and then turn back toward my apartment once on Mayfield. As I snapped these a lady was putting some mail in a mailbox on the corner. Even though when she was looking at me it was obvious I was taking a picture of the ground she gave me this disapproving look.

(I was standing outside/in front of a window)

I thought about taking a picture of the window and saying something like: “Oh yes Jenny undress soon you will be mine.”

(I didn’t.)

She paused for a second (very uncomfortable one) and we looked at one another. Finally she left and I continued on my merry way. Said merry way of course led me behind her for about a block before she made it into her apartment. I had about 40 minutes till the next match started and I decided to head into Mayfield Cemetery. I chose this despite the last time I was in there it really felt like the people cleaning/tending to the grass and what not were following me. They finished up some work and got in their truck just as I got up from the bench I was sitting on. As I walked and snapped away they crept along slowly in the truck (creepers) Side note: Every time I enter a cemetery for purposes other than a funeral I sort of feel bad. This leads to 2 things happening.

1. I make up a back-story. I’m in here to visit my Uncle Randall’s (None of my Uncles are named Randall) grave. We lost him in the war.
2. I promise the dead that if they don’t rise up and rip at my flesh I’ll be respectful and maybe write poetry honoring the dead.

So of course I did this as I entered and I walked around. Listening for any sound of groaning/moaning or you know dirt being broken free of. I managed to snap a few pics. This one was my favorite one:


Anyflower it was time to head on back home and so I made my way along the path back. I snapped a few more pics and stopped to put the camera away. I was near the edge of the Cemetery a few feet from the bushes that line it. Suddenly it got eerily quiet and the birds that were near the bushes flew off. There was a rustling sound. Then some faint cracking from the same area. I looked in that direction and noticed how the dirt was sloped. There was a hole.

More rustling.
More cracking.
I’m backing away. I’m not dumb. More rustling.
And then…
And then…
And then…

A fox jumped out! It then ran along the bushes and vanished. I wish I had my camera out cus I would’ve got a cool shot. Plus I’m pretty sure it was a zombie fox. I mean we have no proof to the contrary…
And it was in a cemetery.

A new threat: Zombie foxes.

Here is a crude representation of what may have happened:


Wow that is just horrible. I apologize. You may now be dumber for looking at that picture

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One Response to The one where I get attacked by zombies

  1. […] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Tobias and Cleveland Poet. Cleveland Poet said: The one where I get attacked by zombies: […]

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