Eric and I worked together for a lot of years. He and I were never close, but we were always cool.
Whenever I see his posts on Facebook where he is firing a weapon, it always seems very natural. There are photos I see online of members of paramilitary groups posing with their arsenals and they always strike me as frightening – that they are chock full of the crazy, waiting to share it with the rest of the world. Eric always seems to be purposeful and in control. And, when I see those pictures, I always picture him fighting zombies. Don’t know why. Just do.
When there is a zombie apocalypse, I’m going two places. First, is to my parent’s house. My mom continues to shop as if she is feeding 3 teenaged boys. They’ve got a tonne of food. Second, I’m going to Barrie to find Eric. Because I know he will already have a plan. I will bring the food.
That being said, I’ve also made a promise to myself to write fiction for one hour of every day. Doesn’t have to be a continuous story. Just the start of one. And if the next day, for that one hour, if the story in my head is the same as the one from the day before, I keep going. If it’s not there, I write about something else. I’ve no shortage of ideas. I keep a notebook for ideas. I fill one of those up every six weeks.
The story attached here is but one of my ‘one hour fiction writing personal workshop sessions’ and I kinda like it.
Thanks, Eric. I named my character after you. After all, the story IS about zombies.