My Friend is a Lesbian Zombie

By Eugie Foster

I don’t know how it happened. I’m the last person I’d go to if I were a zombie; I’m not into the occult thing at all. But I was the only friend Mandy had in this city, so she came to me with her sob story. Lucky me. So there she was, kicked back in my bed, having herself a good, long cry and I was stuck with her, wondering how long until she began stinking. That was really unfair of me, I know, but there was a goddamn walking, talking corpse snuggled up in my good sheets and I was a little concerned about it.