Lord of the…Zombies?
I was the first to make it into the strangely vacant monstrosity of a kitchen. Legolas followed close on my heels, his silvery elvish hair streaming behind him with the speed of his gait. Dread was heavy upon us as the rest of the Fellowship poured into the windowless galley—for it was a dead end. And it would be on top of marbled mauve Formica we’d make our last stand.
The company climbed onto the safety of the counter-tops as we waited in fear for our enemies to reach us. I had just stepped onto the glass cooking top of the island when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I quickly flipped open my Motorola Razr and heard a heavily accented, nasally whine. What could Borat possibly want to talk about right now? I sent panicky glances toward the doorway while I “um-hummed” between Borat’s monologues.
Just as the din of our foes sounded closer than ever, I realized what Borat was doing. That scoundrel! Borat is trying to distract me so I’ll be killed! I slammed my Razr shut and hollered for a weapon. I caught the over-sized garden shears in the nick of time, for the zombies had finally arrived.
Their mindless buzz made the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. I tightened my grip on my shears and lopped off the first head to come within my reach. Instead of the bone crunch I expected, the zombie’s neck was squishy and I almost puked. But there was no time for vomiting while the Fellowship and I were so grossly outnumbered. Eventually, the tide began to turn. The zombie carnage mounted as we chopped and hacked.
And then it happened. Making it’s way toward me by climbing over limbs and torsos, I spotted a familiar face. My mom was a zombie. My palms sweat as I hyperventilated. She wouldn’t want to exist as a zombie right? She wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if she accidentally turned me into one…right? I didn’t have time for any other thoughts because she was upon me.
The moment my garden shears sliced through her zombified neck, I woke up with a gasp. I was at first scared and then horrified I killed my own mother even though she was a zombie. And then I was simply amused by the bizarreness of my dream and knew I wanted to share it.
P.S. Mom: If I ever become a zombie, I’d want you to do the same for me.
What’s the oddest character combination to grace your REM cycles?
First, let me say that from my observations, dreams often (should I say, NEVER?) make sense.
Second,dreams can be bizarre; I’ve had a few, but I can’t recall at the moment the oddest character combination – will have to think about that, and get back to you.
But I have a question – how do you know that a zombie’s neck is squishy? Have you actually lopped off the head of a zombie before in real life?
Oh . . . I understand now – the TV remote in your hand gave it away! Here I thought it was the pizza with extra cheese that caused your bizarre dream!