The Daily Groan

“eeeuuugh, muwuuurrrrr”, you moaned to yourself as you shuffled down the street. As if reading your thoughts Mrs Smith from number 5 replied, “bbrrruuuuueeeeegh”,

‘yeah, tell me about it’, you thought to yourself, shuffling past her as she flailed impotently at the geraniums in her garden, she always did have green thumbs, now quite literally.

The birds sang, the bugs buzzed and the squirrels frolicked in the trees. The birds didn’t care. The bugs were loving it. And the squirrels were fine so long as they stayed out of reach. The tasty goo that once served to keep your memories intact was a little out of it these days but what you do remember from before was pretty bleak. You remember war, you remember pollution, you recall prejudice, injustice and quarterly reports. No good. Then zombies started showing up and things got even scarier. Running, there was lots of running. The slow shamble you had going now was comfortable and you felt you could shamble like this all day without breaking a sweat. This was predominantly because you couldn’t sweat on account of being dead but also because you were out of the rat race.

You remember a girl. You spent so much energy impressing that girl. You got so upset when she got bitten. You were even more upset when she bit you. You’re not upset anymore. Clair. That was her name. She was down the road repeatedly walking into an impassable waist high gate. You could visit if you like, but there would be time for that later. A gentle breeze brought clean fresh air that brushed against your pale skin. You couldn’t feel it, and it left smelling considerably less fresh. The sky was clear and the sun gently warmed your icy cold skin. You couldn’t feel this either.

You headed over to the high street. Passed the boarded-up church outside which the apparently still pious were violently trying to get in, dull pops could be heard inside. You never cared for religion. You passed the train station, in which figures stood motionless waiting for trains that were running inexplicitly late, but nothing was new there. The road was clear, no cars, and no noise. You shuffled on. The beach wasn’t far ahead. The dunes didn’t look any different, they had not cared about humanities absence any more than the birds had. Beyond the dunes was the beach. Plastic still washed up on the shore, but eventually this would stop, not that you had any strong opinions on the matter.

You didn’t have to go to work, you didn’t have to worry about paying bills or even what to have for dinner. If something edible came within reach you’d eat it, otherwise you’d just shamble on. For some time, you wandered aimlessly. A rotten figure missing an arm bumps into you, you politely say, “euurgh” but inside you really thinking, ‘what a jerk’.

Before you know it night falls, but you don’t need to waste time sleeping anymore so you just keep that shuffle going and by the time the sun rises you find your back at the house you woke up in. That is to say, the house you died in. There was Clair still struggling with the gate. You kept returning here. You don’t know why or how. You had been just walking aimlessly and yet here you were, back again. The old you might consider the implications, and that perhaps some latent trace of humanity still remained. You were not the old you. You were the new you. The care and pulse free you.

You hear metallic crunching and a screamed. Clair heard it to and began franticly clawing at the gate, “mmmuuh” you reassure her, and go to investigate.

A minibus covered armour plating and barbed wire had crashed into a lamp post. Someone was desperately trying to fix it while two others assaulted a child. That is to say young Alice the 7-year-old was trying, rightfully so in your opinion, to bite them and they were selfishly trying not to be bitten. The noise had attracted other and soon all your old neighbours were heading to the scene. Frank from two doors down took a machete to the skull. Unfortunate. The guy who lived opposite who introduced himself once but you immediately forgot the name, was similarly murdered. You couldn’t let this stand, and it had been a while since you last ate. It was time to see what you were made of, though it was quite clear what you were made of on account of the fact some of it was hanging out and dripping on the floor. You shuffled over at your usual pace while they were distracted putting an end to someone you didn’t recognise, and took a bite out of one of them. A young man. You recognised the fear and suffering and if you could feel anything your sure you would feel good about ending his pain. Savouring the flesh in your mouth you watched as after a moment of bloody gurgling, an appreciative new friend got to his feet, “eeeuuughgh eugh!” he said, gratefully

“mmuuuuh”, you replied simply

“mmuueh, eugh, muuughegh?” he asked

“euhm”, you replied, after all what else could you say, as you watched the two survivors drive off at speed. Your new friend gave chase at about one sixtieth the speed as did a few others. You knew the others would give up fairly quickly, but this young man would follow them to the ends of the earth. After all they were suffering and he had to help them. You were just glad they had gone and were no longer disturbing the peace; with any luck their toxic influence would never come back.

It had been quite an eventful day, you considered as your stepped over the remains of Frank from two doors down. They wouldn’t go to waste; Alice was already shoulder deep in his abdomen. You however fancied some more aimless shambling, which as ever led you right back to Clair, still determinedly trying to get through that gate. If she could feel, you considered to yourself, she would feel bloody angry, especially when she figures out you needed to pull it open.

Time passed and you continued to not live. It was a truly peaceful not living, and if you could feel happy, you probably would. All manor of plants bloomed between the stone’s humanity had left behind. Each day you found yourself by Clair’s side as she fumbled with a gate. You looked into her cloudy white eyes and for a single instance the whole world seemed like it was full of blinding light. Reflected in Clair’s eyes was the source. You turned and looked at the thick black cloud shaped like a giant mushroom. You turned and put you hand on what remained of Clair’s.

“mmmuubloody, mmmmhhuurhumans” you groaned as a wall of force and heat reduced you, and Clair, (and the gate) to ash.

The End