Image by Bikurgurl
To Steven Lupone, this little table was heaven to him now. He had no more corner office on the fourteenth floor, being asked to vacate it a year ago. Eight months after that, he lost the condo. No steady income meant foreclosure. His days of three hour lunches and European vacations had stopped. He now spent his life looking for anyplace with cheap java and free Wifi to connect with any dim hope of employment. This place was bright, pleasant and a short walk from his mini-van with the sleeping bag inside. A paradise with hot coffee for the discarded man.
Written for this week’s 100 Word Wednesday prompt from Bikurgurl.
Risen from tombs where they wanted to stay
The instinct of hunger leading their way
Shambling slow at the pace of a snail
All are infected be them male or female
Their questioning groans beyond understanding
Looking for something to just have them keep standing
The ones who once loved them now seek places to hide
Until the needs of these things will soon hopefully be satisfied
There’s an answer to stopping these ill creatures by ending their pain
Its not what you think and angrily bashing in their brains
Why do such violence when they’re not walking zombies in undead misery?
They are everyday people who simply need brewed their first cup of morning coffee
Written for this week’s Tale Weaver prompt from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie