I do swear that the dreams of late get more and more apocalyptic in nature with each passing night. Maybe it's the proximity of Mars. I am not sure.
But we were holed up in a pet store, nailing doors & windows shut. The Zombies were powerfully strong, ripping frames off with ease. Their faces gray brown. [A color I have not seen before (I hope to be able to replicate the hue.)] Fierce determination in their movement forward.
We were screwed, the numbers of the undead overwhelming. We exit to a high point made of wood, pull up the ladder.
I am dropping kitties over the edge to keep the undead occupied. Their little smoke-colored paws clawing my arms and fingers and toes (why was I barefoot?) in their last moments of life. Damn those claws hurt!
The flies swarmed around us..but only the undead had flies around them...confusion... Where is he? we all looked around at one another... Realization hits the stock boys eyes, they are wide open "Aw sh*t, it's me!" His face turning first yellow then green and swelling. He grabs a tool similar to a boot spur, but mechanical and battery-operated, and drags it across his face puncturing first one eye, then the nose bridge then the other eye. He drags it back around over his neck and collapses.
I guess I won't be making my hair appointment after all...