I heard a loud knock at my door so I opened it with a wary hand. An intimidating 7ft. Zombie in a mask stood before me holding a large white flower. "I come in peace," he said.
With a deadpan voice he told me he was collecting contributions for a Zombie orphanage. His story moved me enough to hand over as large a donation as I could. I told him I had nothing more to give but a glass of sweetened fruit juice. A smile came to his giant face. He drank the juice in one monstrous gulp and went on his way, taking the glass with him.
The next morning I heard another knock at my door. But this time the knock was slight. It came from a Zombie child's small hand. He gave me a juice glass that held a large white flower. He smiled at me, I smiled back, and I've never seen nor heard from a Zombie since, even though I'd say we're the same kind of people.
Poetry Pantry #363
37 minutes ago