This is my second Friday Fictioneers submission. In the past, I’ve oscillated between whimsical and maudlin but I’ve never done macabre. Arguably, I haven’t pulled it off here but I felt it was worth a go.
More examples here
Photograph Copyright Bjorn Rudberg
When the zombies came, all was chaos until a sort of uneasy equilibrium broke out. The zombies did their own thing and the remaining pre-undead let them get on with it. In time, though, that wasn’t enough. The left an unearthly mess and the zombie diet was associated with significant morbidity. In the end, the zombie elders decided enough was enough. They’d introduce public services paid for out of general taxation. It worked for a while, but then the richer zombies started moving to Switzerland. The naysayers told them it was a betrayal of their zombie ideals; that it meant they were dead inside. It didn’t matter, though; the skiing was so much better if you didn’t mind the cold.