Free My Zombie Honeymoon: Love in the Age of Zombies Book One by James K. Evans Page B

to do something unsavory, and I told her I was going to make her pick her own lettuce. We went back into the grow room and I handed her a pair of scissors. I told her to cut off a few of the older, outside leaves from each plant. The plants continue to grow, and if you’re careful, you have a constant crop until the lettuce starts to bolt.
    As I was telling her this, she was tenuously cutting leaves. A few cherry tomatoes were ripe, so we picked them as well. None of the peppers were ready yet, but I doubt she would have wanted them anyway—they’re really only for chili hot heads.
    When we had a large bowl filled with lettuce, we went into the kitchen and I started tearing them into tinier pieces. She asked me why I wasn’t washing them first, and I explained to her there was no need—they were never exposed to any pesticides, there were no bugs to worry about, no dirt to wash off . . .
    We’d picked plenty, and I added some raisins, sunflower seeds and croutons, then added some oil and vinegar (no refrigeration required) and we went into the living room to eat. I don’t have any kind of table.
    We ended up watching a movie, comfortably sitting side by side on the sofa. It wasn’t a movie movie, more like a long music video. It was called Koyanisqaatsi and has a lot of time lapse video showing the serenity of nature contrasting with the hyperactivity of man. Phillip Glass did the sound track, and the music and visuals are perfect for each other.
    I didn’t know how she’d react—I’ve tried to watch this with other folks and have gotten a very lukewarm response. Most women want to watch a chick-flick, or at least a movie with a plot and dialog. This had neither. So I was pleasantly surprised when she told me how she liked it!
    By now it was getting late—not that it mattered—and we were both yawning. She said she should get going, so I bagged up the rest of the salad for her.
    She joked on the way up the stairs that it felt like I was walking her home after a date, and it did feel that way. I used my camera’s night mode to make sure the coast was clear, then opened the door for her. She thanked me for being so gracious about her being a bitch, and as she said goodnight she leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Imagine that. A kiss!
    I closed the door behind her after telling her to call me on the radio when she was safely inside, then headed downstairs. Immediately she transmitted and once again thanked me for everything. I told her it was my pleasure, and I hoped to talk to her again soon.
    Since this is my journal, and my mother won’t be reading it (or my daughter, since I have none) I can go ahead and admit it: After we finished talking I looked through the porn DVDs until I found one featuring big-busted women, and I watched it for a while then went to bed.
    Based on how the day started—with us not talking—I never would have dreamed the day would finish with a happy ending. Heh.
    November 15 th
    Michelle and I have been talking on the radio a lot. By a lot, I mean sometimes for an hour at a time. It’s been fun getting to know her. I love her laugh and she has a great sense of humor. She hasn’t been back over to my place—and I haven’t been to hers—but maybe soon we can visit.
    We’ve been playing backgammon. We tried playing checkers, but it was too difficult to explain which piece we were moving. I usually win.
    In some ways, I feel sorry for her. She’s in her place, sitting in semi-darkness, with nothing but me to entertain her. Especially at night. While I can (and do) listen to music and watch DVDs, she has nothing. She can’t even read a book after dark. If I had something to loan her, I would, but I suppose it wouldn’t be very safe in the long run. Any light or sound escaping her house would only draw zombies.
    Earlier today I was watching my Looney Tunes cartoon collection, and when she came on the radio she asked me to let her listen in. Even though she couldn’t see