My Zombie Honeymoon: Love in the Age of Zombies Book One by Evans James K

Author:Evans, James K. [Evans, James K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-05-10T04:00:00+00:00

—Later—

I’m sitting in the living room now, writing down yesterday’s events while Michelle sleeps. About an hour ago, I awoke from a puzzling dream. I rarely dream about Tammy any more, but tonight I dreamt we were walking along the shore of Lake Michigan, looking for Petoskey stones. We were holding hands and chatting as our bare feet were occasionally splashed by the calming surf. The sun was about to set; the day was fading into dusk; already the dusky eastern sky was fading into night with a few stars beginning to shine.

Tammy was dressed in a summery white dress. Some kind of gauzy material. It was lightweight and the sleeves fluttered in the Lake Michigan breeze. The colors of the sunset reflected off the material, and the folds and shadows picked up the blue of the darkening sky. With one hand she held the hem above her ankles, keeping the dress dry.

As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, we came upon a blanket near a beach fire. I recognized the blanket as being ours, and we sat down. Onto the foot of the blanket I spread my collection of beach treasures—a couple of decent Petoskeys, some Charlevoix stones, a piece of beach glass. From somewhere Tammy came up with a bottle of Merlot, which she handed to me along with a corkscrew. I pulled the cork from the bottle and filled our wine glasses. Gazing west out over the azure, darkening lake, which still reflected the waning glow of the day, we sipped our wine in silence.

I could vividly see the color of her hazel brown eyes as she turned toward me and toward the light of the fire. I could see the dancing highlights in her hair, reflecting the color of the flames. I noticed a mole on her left shoulder I had forgotten about. Her skin glowed in the firelight. She was healthy and alive. And beautiful.

I could smell smoke from our fire and, looking around, I could see perhaps a half-dozen more fires and could hear laughter of people nearby. I heard the murmur of adults talking as they watched fading colors of the sunset and welcomed the close of a splendid day. Slightly behind me and to the left, someone was artfully playing the guitar, singing Waltzing Mathilda. In the distance I could hear Blue, the resident German Shepherd, barking at seagulls. I felt the heat from the fire on my right side.

All around me, friends and families were gathered around beach fires. I heard an occasional squeal of laughter from the children. The high-school guys and girls were doing their obligatory flirting and showing off.

My observations contained details far beyond those of a typical dream; the sense of reality was profound. Even in the midst of it, I knew this was a vision.

We stayed there for hours, talking, sipping the wine (which never seemed to run out), watching a father and his little boy making S’mores. Soon we lay back, stargazing, exclaiming every time we saw a shooting star or a satellite.

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