Back on Track

After a frightening bit of "I don't want to work on it anymore", I've gotten back into it. Parker takes on a dead guy, mano a mano, and grays out for a moment from the shock of a really hard tackle.

I did that once, when I "tackled" our prop forward after being loaned to Purdue for a rugby game. I woke up to find my team all the way on the other side of the pitch, still playing, and two fans standing over me laughing. I was out for a little longer than Parker, but I still remember that play - or most of it. *laugh* The reason they were laughing? I knocked myself out, hitting her that hard, but didn't manage to do more than trip her a little.

Anyway, I've done some hundreds of words, and expect to do more when I get upstairs - unless Professor Kennedy snags me to work on that damned tee shirt. Parker and Kelsey are starting to have words. They're both tired and cranky with the whole end-of-the-world thing, and just as they're both about to say fuck off to each other, they hear the cop. The one with the GUN.

Ah...but how do you get a gun out of the holster of a zombie? *g*