for the psychoanalysts
I dreamt of zombies this morning. By this morning, I mean around 4 or 5am. The setting was unfamiliar and so were the characters; granted, I wasn’t expecting to recognize any of the zombies as the undead themselves, but I just didn’t know any of the people involved, living or un-living.
But, one of the people was striking like Piggy from Lord of the Flies - annoying and pestering know-it-all who had poor timing, hygiene, and looks. But I shouldn’t beat up on the Piggy-character in my dream. Although, I did. I hit him with a shovel when he became a zombie. Not that a blow to the skull with a shovel would slow a zombie down. Or.. at least, I thought he was a zombie. I don’t recall him having the conventional dead flesh and askew facial expression; but he was in the way of me temporarily disabling the zombies and he got brutally pummeled with the lot of them.
So for a while, me and some arbitrary friends warded off zombies in some large house that we became trapped in. I recall no other method of defense apart from the shovels, although I do remember holding a garden hoe for a while and ramming that into the undead for some time. As far as zombie stories and dreams go, I wouldn’t say this was extraordinary. I don’t believe anything heroic at all came of our unfortunate endeavor. Neither do I even remember how we got into the situation in the first place.
I’m not even sure it occurred at night, as would be expected. I suppose, upon waking and ridding myself of the morning confusion, it made me have even more appreciation for my favorite spin-off, Shaun of the Dead. Not that it’s my favorite, but it is a spin-off.