I'm a Zombie?

"I'm a zombie."

"Okay."

"Someone has eaten my brains."

"That's nice Madge," Patrice says before she takes a sip of her latte. "I think the eggs were a little hard today. I should have complained."

"You're not taking me seriously, and I've never been more serious in my life."

"Zombies are not on planet Earth and your head seems fine. But what do I know?"

"I'm worrying about my sanity!"

"I'm enjoying our nice Sunday brunch and our stimulating conversation. Why ruin the mood by discussing brain-eating zombies? I especially enjoyed our debate on solar energy."

"Ask me what I did last night."

"Can we discuss a gym membership versus outdoor exercise? That could be quite interesting."

"Just ask me."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes."

Patrice looks at Madge, who looks upset.

"Okay, okay. What did you do last night?"

"I don't remember," Madge says, her voice is a whisper.

"Listen Madge. I've forgotten what I did last night too."

"Seriously?"

Maybe this wasn't as bad as she thought.

"No. I'm trying to make you feel better. I spent last night working with clay. Messy. But, I do love the feel of it in my hands. Definitely different then the oil paints I've been working with lately. I needed a change."

"I'm going to strangle you!"

"You're not the first person to tell me this and you will probably not be the last. But seriously," Patrice says as she covers Mardge’s hand with her own. "Everybody has memory lapses. It comes with being a women of a certain age. We are not young women anymore."

"Not like this," Madge says, shaking her head.

"Well, let's hope the zombie who ate your brain burps it back into your head."

Madge hits Patrice in the arm then growls.

"Ouch. Why did you do that?" Patrice says as she rubs her arm.

"For being a shit! I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you!"

"Alright, alright, alright! How long has this been going on for?"

Both women are looking at each other. Madge looks away and takes a deep breath then releases it. Patrice is starting to feel a bit concerned. What was going on here? Madge releases another breath then looks at Patrice.

"I'm a freak."

"Well, I could have told you that."

"I am going to kill you!"

"Eat my brains instead, then we can communicate better."

"I'm trying to be serious, and you're being impossible!"

"Not impossible, merely taxing,” Patrice says. "Now, you're not a freak. You have to be the most laid back person I know--I would even say sometimes you can be a bit boring."

"Exactly!"

"Well, except for when husband tried to have sex in the bathroom with that strange woman at that Thai restaurant. Now, that was interesting"

"Please don't remind me. There is a valid reason why he is my ex."

"Yes, there is. Now, let's get back to you being boring and the lack of brain issue."

"Geez Patrice. You know how to make a person feel awesome."

"What are friends for?"

"You can be a real jack-ass sometimes."

"Agreed. Now, tell me more about your memory problems."

"It was ever since we went out for wine at that piano lounge. When was that again?"

"Hmmm. I think it was about a month ago. I do remember that creep managed to convince you to take him home. We're getting a little old for those shenanigans, Madge."

"Don't remind me. I barely managed to hog-wrestle him out the door. I make a good cup of coffee, apparently, good enough for someone to stick around for second cup. He must use drip at home."

"Next time you have bad judgement and wake up with a creep in your bed, do me a favor—kick him out and lock the door behind him."

"That’s not happening again"

"Good. So, he was a zombie?"

"I don't think so, but I wondered if perhaps he did something to me while I was sleeping."

"Voodoo?"

"No idea. Is that even a real thing? He did have weird eyes though if I remember correctly. Strange pupils."

"Demon eyes?"

"Maybe he hypnotised me!"

"Calm down. Let's discuss this on some reasonable level that I can understand."

"Thinking back on it--I'm pretty sure that he could have been a demon, not a zombie. The sounds he made when we were--you know what--it was almost a howl."

"Werewolf?"

"Maybe."

"Is this somekind of paranormal romance thriller. Did you even get his name?"