['This is the story of a man named Teo, who was real and remembered, even if he couldn't remember himself well and didn't have enough for a biography.'
It's the one rule she has for her most prized possession and she's breaking it. For him. Maybe it's starting to lose seat on its long-held throne. That's the power of friendship, baby.
'He has a letter I've never read. A letter I've never seen. It was with him when he woke up, and even though it's been ruined with blood and time, he keeps it safe with him. Inside his pocket is a link to the life he had before all this.
Oh. By the way, this is taking place at the end of the world -- not the location, because the world is spherical so that doesn't exist, and I hope there's enough written word and intelligent life that this fact survives, but I can't predict the future. Humanity's let me down before. Now they're all dead: in the ground, on the ground, walking, or inside. I was like that, too, until I met one of these walking dead guys who felt the name Teo was right, so that's who he is. Funny that a zombie's the best guy I've ever known, and the only friend I've ever had.
I didn't know him before, so I don't have a lot to share yet. There might never be more, since he says flashes of memories come to him in little pieces and feelings. What I do know is that he's generous and compassionate. He's shown me that much, along with silly little doodles I've taped to the inside cover of this book.
Other things I know: - He's a Latino man in his twenties. He keeps himself covered up so others can't see he's undead. His left cheek is ripped off so you can see his teeth, so it would be pretty hard to argue against any accusation. - His eyes are dull and sensitive to light, so he wears goggles. - His hair is long. It was probably black or one of those darkest browns, but it's gone more gray. - His entire self is like someone dialed down the saturation level. His personality is still vibrant, even if he has to wheeze pieces of it out slowly, bit by bit, with lungs that don't work right anymore. As little as I've seen so far, I can make the judgment that his body is undeniably dead. - He can cook. He made me vegetarian sloppy joe today, or at least the apocalypse version. - He likes animals. They're not so fond of him now, what with the whole zombie thing. - He dresses like a punk. I don't know enough about the style or music to explain the patches that are sewn onto his clothes, but maybe he can tell me something. Stay tuned, reader. - He likes romance novels. Pretty sure he's bisexual. - On a related note, he mentioned cooking breakfast for partners after spending the night with them, but in various places. He remembers the electric buzzing sound that certain lights make. - He remembers probably sleeping in cars, like I sometimes do now for safety, but back when he was alive. - He's been shot before. His blood now is black. Zombies are able to mostly ignore pain because they always have a more prominent focus. For the rest, it's just hunger. He has hunger and the whims of his heart.'
Ryder pauses and listens with a frown. Even without the sound of people or television, lights or air conditioning...it was hard to make out all the noises. Damn walls, protecting her. Was that something, or her imagination? Was it him?
...After a straight minute of straining to hear something that would pierce the calm, she returns to her secret notes.
'- He cares about me. He'll hold me even though he's scared of infecting me. If I get infected, I probably won't be the same as him. He wouldn't be able to hold me anymore. He doesn't want to lose me. - I care about him. I don't want to lose him. - This isn't enough. I want to know more.'
She adds their story so far, omitting a lot of the details. There's so many parts scribbled out from a misspelling or plain embarrassment. As much as she wants a record of his existence for the world -- his importance as a person and not a medical marvel or hiccup of fate -- she doesn't...want to share him. She only just got him.
The hallway has a muffled thump to it of steps approaching, so she quickly stashes her pen away and snaps her book shut.]
Hey. All clear over here with me and Chancellor -- [Ah. Teo enters her view and her voice falters shamefully.] -- Bounce. Um. You? I -- thought I might have heard...
no subject
It's the one rule she has for her most prized possession and she's breaking it. For him. Maybe it's starting to lose seat on its long-held throne. That's the power of friendship, baby.
'He has a letter I've never read. A letter I've never seen. It was with him when he woke up, and even though it's been ruined with blood and time, he keeps it safe with him. Inside his pocket is a link to the life he had before all this.
Oh. By the way, this is taking place at the end of the world -- not the location, because the world is spherical so that doesn't exist, and I hope there's enough written word and intelligent life that this fact survives, but I can't predict the future. Humanity's let me down before. Now they're all dead: in the ground, on the ground, walking, or inside. I was like that, too, until I met one of these walking dead guys who felt the name Teo was right, so that's who he is. Funny that a zombie's the best guy I've ever known, and the only friend I've ever had.
I didn't know him before, so I don't have a lot to share yet. There might never be more, since he says flashes of memories come to him in little pieces and feelings. What I do know is that he's generous and compassionate. He's shown me that much, along with silly little doodles I've taped to the inside cover of this book.
Other things I know:
- He's a Latino man in his twenties. He keeps himself covered up so others can't see he's undead. His left cheek is ripped off so you can see his teeth, so it would be pretty hard to argue against any accusation.
- His eyes are dull and sensitive to light, so he wears goggles.
- His hair is long. It was probably black or one of those darkest browns, but it's gone more gray.
- His entire self is like someone dialed down the saturation level. His personality is still vibrant, even if he has to wheeze pieces of it out slowly, bit by bit, with lungs that don't work right anymore. As little as I've seen so far, I can make the judgment that his body is undeniably dead.
- He can cook. He made me vegetarian sloppy joe today, or at least the apocalypse version.
- He likes animals. They're not so fond of him now, what with the whole zombie thing.
- He dresses like a punk. I don't know enough about the style or music to explain the patches that are sewn onto his clothes, but maybe he can tell me something. Stay tuned, reader.
- He likes romance novels. Pretty sure he's bisexual.
- On a related note, he mentioned cooking breakfast for partners after spending the night with them, but in various places. He remembers the electric buzzing sound that certain lights make.
- He remembers probably sleeping in cars, like I sometimes do now for safety, but back when he was alive.
- He's been shot before. His blood now is black. Zombies are able to mostly ignore pain because they always have a more prominent focus. For the rest, it's just hunger. He has hunger and the whims of his heart.'
Ryder pauses and listens with a frown. Even without the sound of people or television, lights or air conditioning...it was hard to make out all the noises. Damn walls, protecting her. Was that something, or her imagination? Was it him?
...After a straight minute of straining to hear something that would pierce the calm, she returns to her secret notes.
'- He cares about me. He'll hold me even though he's scared of infecting me. If I get infected, I probably won't be the same as him. He wouldn't be able to hold me anymore. He doesn't want to lose me.
- I care about him. I don't want to lose him.
- This isn't enough. I want to know more.'
She adds their story so far, omitting a lot of the details. There's so many parts scribbled out from a misspelling or plain embarrassment. As much as she wants a record of his existence for the world -- his importance as a person and not a medical marvel or hiccup of fate -- she doesn't...want to share him. She only just got him.
The hallway has a muffled thump to it of steps approaching, so she quickly stashes her pen away and snaps her book shut.]
Hey. All clear over here with me and Chancellor -- [Ah. Teo enters her view and her voice falters shamefully.] -- Bounce. Um. You? I -- thought I might have heard...
[Something?]