Original short story "Zombie Talk"

The short story "Zombie Talk", written in July 2010.

I hope that everyone can be more axe correct, ask for praise [like], ask for attention [give force], ask for forward [Chinese praise], gossip less, the main text begins!

Whether zombies are dead or alive has been debated for a long time in the industry.

In my opinion, zombies should be said to have never died, because we all have a long dream. Because of this dream, we are nostalgic for the world and do not want to die.

At the end of our lives, we have a decision of life and death, either to throw away that dream and drink the bowl of soup that is said to be delicious, or to cross the bridge that is said to allow only one person to cross. The other is to become a lone soul, in the almost endless wandering to pursue the fate of the person to end the dream.

And I chose to turn back, to return to that flesh, to hold my last breath.

So technically we are deprived of our physical life, put into a coffin, buried in the ground and lonely waiting to see the light of day again, to realize that dream, at least theoretically.

The reason for making this choice, personally, is that I am because of a woman. I love her and want to spend my life with her. But the god who wrote the book of life and death made a joke with me: he died young.

However, love is magical, and the person who loves each other has never been separated by yin and yang, it is said:

Men pass away, women hold back; yin and yang are separated, and people and ghosts are different.

Deep love, constant affection; vows not to eat, women martyrdom.

After the death of the two, the heavens and the earth are not tolerated; the two butterflies are transformed into butterflies and accompany each other for eternity.

And this poignant love story directly guides the person I love, but when faced with choices, she does not want to forget our love, so she chooses to be a lone soul.

She was looking for me among all the beings, but I was waiting for her in the coffin underground.

A hundred years have passed, she is still wandering, and I am still not corrupt.

A thousand years passed, he was still adrift, and I was still immortal.

A hundred years of wandering stems from a hundred years of loneliness; a thousand years of wandering, by searching for a thousand years.

A hundred years are not corrupt, only because of a hundred years of loneliness; a thousand years are not extinguished, just to wait for a thousand years.

Fate seems to be really very difficult with us, let her thousands of years of lonely wandering, let me a hundred thousand years of lonely waiting. Millennia of wandering, endless thoughts and helplessness of nowhere to pursue make her feel sad; thousands of years of waiting, thousands of expectations and dark waiting make me resentful.

The moment the coffin was opened, my heart was filled with the joy of a thousand years of waiting. But the grave robber took the jade pendant left by my lover in the palm of my hand, and the resentment of the thousand-year-old guard was released endlessly, and I sucked his blood dry, tore his chest, and discarded him in the barren mountains, which had become a dry corpse.

The endless darkness has made me lose the concept of time and made me afraid of the sun; the thousand years of loneliness and waiting have deprived me of the ability to speak, leaving me to howl. Though I am not rotten, I have lost my blood and redness; though I have not perished, I have become stiff as iron.

But in my heart, there are still endless thoughts about my lover. However, time has flown by, and thousands of years have passed, and things have long been different.

I screamed up at the heavens, cursing this merciless heaven and earth with the resentment in my heart and the howl of weeping.

I was tired, so tired in my heart.

I heard a call, after a thousand years, this voice is so familiar, but also so strange.

What is familiar is the kindness that has been repeated in the heart of the millennium, and what is strange is the familiar but strange vagueness. I looked back and saw her, who had been wandering for a thousand years.

I tried to hold her, but found that my arms could not be bent; she wanted to hold me, but she passed through my body.

I want to say to her, to say that I love her, to talk about the pain of thousands of years of lovesickness, and I can only howl;

She wanted to say to me, that she loved me, that she had been searching for thousands of years, and that her voice was so ethereal.