A FEW FACTS ABOUT DEATH
It isn't choosy about its victims
They always seem heavier than they did in life (hence "dead weight")
They need to be dealt with fast
Their families aren't always eager to do so, nor let the "professionals"
Burning bodies do NOT smell like pork, any one who says they do has been to some psychedelic barbeques.
I told you before that the beginning was a good place to start, so that's what I'll do. I will go briefly through the events of the superflu, before moving onto eberyone's favourites: our good friends the zombies. If you can't be arsed to read the flu bit, and want only zombies, wait for the next one, it won't be long. To be honest, I wouldn;t blame you if you did.
Well, where to start, where to start......here is good, I think.
I lived in a rural area (I say lived, I'm still in the same place, but my life has changed so much that it hardly deserves the same verb, and the phrase to live somewhere has become somewhat warped along with the line between the dead and the living), and everyone knew everyone else, even if you didn't know their names you knew their characters, like the wheelbarrow man or the juggling greengrocer. Anyway, in a place like that, it's easy to tell when something's out of fettle.
I realised this when Father Jem turned up to give assembley with red eyes like hangover, a bad case of the rudolf nose with the sniffles to go with it. If you knew him, you'd know that he had a castle of an immune system, with moat, port cullis and murder holes included. They would have to be some pretty mean microbes to get in there.
From there it went downhill. Within a week, 50% of my school was off sick, and within a fortnight the school closed. A few months later, people started dying. The dead stacked up, and our wheelbarrow man found himself with a new job dealing with overcrouded churchyards and crematoriums (bring out your dead! etc etc).
As you could guess, the wheelbarrow man shortly found himself "RIDING THE BARROW TO THE BONFIRE", and a replacement was needed. Pretty soon, people who got the job lost their names and just became the "barrowmen", and as their helpers took over they became the "professionals". Some people refused to let their loved ones be burned, and insisted they be buried. This became a problem, and we move on to the next part: zombies.
You remember what I said about everyone knowing everyone? Well, people started panicking when they saw their friends who had been buried the week before walking the streets. Some thought that, it's a miracle! Our prayers have been answered! And other things along those lines, and they were the next to go as they tried to contact their loved ones, only to be attacked and eaten or turned.
This problem grew, and the fire brigade (or what was left of it) joined the vast number of people with new jobs (me included, at this point I would walk on the salt flats and pick samphire to sell and eat). They would drive along, sirens blazing setting fire to zombies, digging up graves and removing the heads of the corpses.
A FEW FACTS ABOUT PEOPLE
We're all the same, no matter when we're born
We have the same basic fears, but different ways of dealing with them
We are either: afraid of death, of our selves, or mad
We do what's necessary, and justify it later
We all should be cat people, and I pity those who aren't