older father, weary soul, you'll drive back to the home you made on the mountainside with that ugly, terrible thing those papers for divorce and a lonely ring a lonely ring sit on your porch and pluck your strings
Brandon knew exactly what that elongated package contained without needing to open it. He'd waited weeks and now it was finally here.
Halloween night could not have come any sooner. His replica Shaun of the Dead cricket bat was the talk of the night.
"ZOMBIES! RUN!" is the sort of line that he would expect to hear in his favourite horror movies, not something his best friend would shout to him in a panic before something that was once human takes a chunk out of his arm.
And now Brandon is running for his life, feet pounding the pavement as he tries to put some distance between him and the living dead. It's so much like the movies that he starts to laugh hysterically.