Picnic
A gentle stirring roused me from sleep, a distinct feeling washed over me, whispering that today was a rare and precious day. I drew back the curtains, eager to unveil the outside world. As I opened the windows, the air promised a subtle, refreshing chill, and soft sunbeams promised a day of unhurried leisure. The radio shared a weather forecast that perfectly matched my mood. It was clear; this was the perfect day for a picnic.
My excitement couldn’t be contained as I dialed Sue’s number. I could almost feel her smile through the phone as she answered and greeted with a “Hello”.
“Hey, Sue,” I said, my voice bubbling with anticipation. “The weather’s smiling on us today. How about a picnic at the park for lunch? What do you say?”
Sue, her voice resonating with enthusiasm, responded with an eager “Yes!” Our spontaneous decision was to be the highlight of our day.
With a heart full of excitement, I promised to arrive to the park in an hour, bearing an assortment of delectable dishes that would make our picnic an unforgettable experience. The prospect of those hours passing slowly, brimming with anticipation, only added to the charm of our imminent outing.
I reached the park ahead of time, eager to claim the perfect spot for our picnic. I went to our cherished spot, a picturesque haven beneath the sheltering canopy of a magnificent oak tree. Gently, I began to unpack the contents of our wicker picnic basket, treating the process like an art form. One by one, I arranged the delectable items with a touch of finesse. To complete the tableau, I had brought along a small bouquet of wildflowers, their bright colors lending a touch of nature’s beauty to our already charming setup.
As I waited in anticipation of Sue’s arrival, I settled back onto the blanket. With each inhalation, I savored the crisp, invigorating air, and with closed eyes, I let myself become enveloped by the symphony of the outdoors.
I listened to the birds chirping, a joyful accompaniment to the rustling leaves, as if whispering some secrets to the wind. The morning felt so perfect that it seemed plucked from a postcard, tailored to our desires.
A few minutes later, I saw Sue walking towards me, a smile illuminating her face. Her delighted wave beckoned me forward, and I watched her approach with eager anticipation.
“I’m so glad we could do this,” she exclaimed as she settled in beside me on the blanket. A reciprocal warmth filled my heart as I replied, “Me too. This is going to be a great day.”
We chatted and laughed as we ate, our conversation flowing freely like the gentle breeze that rustled through the leaves above us.
I had carefully selected our spot, away from the main paths and crowds, hoping to enjoy a peaceful afternoon of relaxation and companionship. But our idyllic afternoon was shattered by a scream. We looked up to see a passerby crossing our path, their eyes widening in fear as they took in our appearance. They let out another ear piercing shriek and turned and ran, their footsteps echoing through the park.
With a glance between us, we exchanged knowing smiles, silently hoping for a day when such encounters wouldn’t disrupt our idyllic moments. We anticipated the inevitable, the distant wails of sirens. Still, we continued enjoying our Man-wiches, serene in our chosen sanctuary, waiting for Dave.
The blaring siren stopped and was followed by a shrill, overexcited voice fast approaching us. Most residents around here were well acquainted with our unique circumstances, but newcomers, like the man approaching, often needed an introduction to the unconventional way of life in our corner of the world.
As he entered our view, the newcomer implored Dave to ready his firearm, believing he had stumbled upon a pair of lunatics. In response, Dave calmly reassured him to stay composed and to join him in his approach towards us.
“Hi Sue, Hi Mort,” Dave greeted us, his voice steady and warm. “It looks like you have a new neighbor. Mr. Tattersall, this is Sue and Mort. They live here as well, and they are not lunatics. They’re just zombies. You have nothing to worry about. They exclusively consume ethically sourced human meats and are not a threat to bite or infect anyone. I hope you get to know them better.”
As Sue and I exchanged knowing glances, we greeted Mr. Tattersall, offering welcoming smiles as we hoped this encounter would lead to a more enlightened understanding of our way of life.