I Dream Of Zombies With The Light Brown Hair

Last night (or more accurately, this morning), I dreamed the world had been slowly over run with zombies. I saw this dream coming a mile away, since I’ve been playing Land of the Dead: Road to Fiddler’s Green for the last week. I knew, sooner or later, they were gonna pop up.

I wouldn’t call it a nightmare, exactly, as they weren’t terrifying. Creepy, spooky, scary, yes. Wet-your-pants horrible, no. They were just the walking dead. As the dream went on, they increased in number, while I and a few other plucky survivors held out as long as we could with whatever weapons/tools we could find.

It started at my actual house, and the usual zombie-rules applied. Stay quiet, keep your head down, they won’t come in the house. Not everyone kept their heads down, so naturally, the zombies saw the movement and headed straight for us.

Somewhere along the line I spotted a revolver (not being a gun owner I found this quite strange), and used it to dispatch a few of the walking dead. When I ran out of bullets, I just ended up pistol-whipping them over the head. Not the funnest time.

Still, I managed to survive bite-free until I woke up. Which is good, since the last thing I want to dream about is becoming a mindless automaton—wait a minute.

I think my subconscious owes George A. Romero a royalty check.