When I woke up, I wondered if I was alive or undead. My stomach ached from hunger and my head felt groggy. I had to think, "what I was hungry for? Normal food...or brains?" The power had not gone out yet, but I still figured I should open the fridge and eat what was in there first, then move on to the canned food. I found some leftover pasta and ate it quickly, quietly. The last thing I wanted to do was draw attention. As I ate, I thought about the dream. I was looking down at me and my wife in the bed...only...my hand was in her chest. I pulled out her heart and gorged myself on the bloody organ. I then proceeded to dig into her body cavity and feast on her. I finish the pasta, put the dish aside. It must be a good sign that I hunger for normal food. I feel the bite on my shoulder and neck. Maybe the zombie didn't get in far enough? Maybe he tore at the flesh and didn't really infect me? It felt like the wound was healing...forming a scab. Maybe I was in the clear. Maybe I was safe...and then what? I can't live barricaded in this storage room forever. I mean, there's a lot of bottled water and canned food...maybe enough for about a month. After that, I'll need to venture out. I don't know what I'll find out there. I don't hear any noises outside the door...I assume the zombies haven't broken in to the main house because it looks abandoned. No humans to eat, why bother breaking in. I need to remain quiet...not draw any attention to myself. As long as the power is available and the service is up, then I should be able to keep using my laptop to send these blogs...in the hope that someone out there will read them. Maybe send me a message to let me know...is this the end of human civilization? I feel my strength returning...the food must have helped. I drink some of juice from the fridge. I will eventually need to leave this safe place. I look at the workbench and various tools hanging from the peg board. I have a month to devise weapons, shield...something to give me a fighting chance. I'm going to go through the work bench...see what I can find...it's likely my only hope for survival. I push aside a bag of used mystery novels intended for donating to the library. Now I wish I had grabbed my copy of The Zombie Survival Guide from our storage unit. I've read it...and have a pretty good understanding of what I need to do...but still...it would be one of the few books I would actually want right now.

I hope I wasn't infected...I hope...I don't know...I don't know what to hope for anymore...

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