On my walk home today a man started limping behind me. “OC-80s,” he incessantly muttered. I kept walking. Two more people approached moaning the same thing. It dawned on me something was wrong. As I continued I saw a large assemblage at the corner. They were watching me in feverish anticipation. Then it hit me – these were zombies! I had accidentally stumbled into the Tenderloin District, the place where people buy, sell, and use lots of drugs.
Upon realizing my unfortunate circumstance I looked behind for a retreat; too late, 2 zombies were trailing me. I was surrounded front and back. “OC-80s… OC-80s… OC-80s…” they chanted as they circled in. Instead of taking my chances with the zombies I decided to take my chances with traffic. I diverged on to the street narrowly missing speeding automobiles. The zombies reluctantly held back at the curb – they knew better than to challenge the long established territory of cars. I sighed with relief. I had escaped.
Sublime Thoughts 