Sunday, July 10, 2011

Graduate School

OK, I'll start. This is the first zombie dream I remember having.

I'm sitting at my cubicle in the basement of the English building when a gray skeletal hand smashes in the narrow, ground floor level window and waves a term paper at me. The semester is over, and I'm about to chastise the student for turning in a paper after grades have been submitted when I realize he or she is undead.

I run out of the building to spread the word, because somehow I know how to deal with this--I know what they fear. I dodge shambling figures and run onto the quad, shouting as loudly as I can:


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