A Cautionary Tale for Zombies

Today is All Saints' Day - the day after All Hallows' Eve. Over on Simon P Clark's blog he has spent the last couple of weeks bullying encouraging people to write Halloween stories of any length, but particularly of exactly 1031 words. 1031 being shorthand for October 31st, for those of you who are feeling slow today. (Simon is in fact British, but lives in the USA so we can forgive his wonky date structures. Besides, writing a 3110-word story would've been much more arduous.)

I genuinely didn't have time to write a proper short story, despite Simon's wonderful contribution of flash fiction to this blog a few weeks ago. However, he made me feel guilty enough about this, I did spend the best part of one lunch-hour last week coming up with a shorter story for today instead. So you can pop over and read a collection of Halloween tales on Simon's blog and then you can read an All Saints' tale right here. I warn you though, this is pretty serious stuff. If you know any zombies who might be tempted to stay out past Halloween, I beg you to share this blog post with them.

(I was trying to write a tale of 111 words to fit in with today's date both sides of the Atlantic. I couldn't. So this is 222 words. Yes, including the title and the final parentheses. No, of course I didn't give it a ridiculous title to make it exactly 222 words. What sort of shoddy slapdash writer do you think I am?)

Sean, Who Thought Not Going to Bed Was Funny But Found Out It’s Really Not Funny At All If You Happen To Be A Zombie.

Sean was an almost-perfect child –

He wasn’t loud, mad, bad or wild.

He’d just one flaw (it has to be said):

Sean would never go to bed.

On All Saints’ Day, when they’d had their fun

And the Undead New Year had just begun

While his Zombie pals returned to the grave,

Sean laughed and said, “I’m feeling brave!

“I’m off to mock vampires, turning to stone,

And terrify old ladies who live on their own.”

What he couldn’t have known (but should have guessed)

Is that on November the 1^st Saints come off best.

Down they came to eat up sinners,

With cheese graters, knives and salad spinners.

They swooped Sean up with the Hound of Hell

And made him in to a béchamel.

So next Halloween, if you’re a ghost or a ghoul,

Try to remember this one simple rule:

Be sure to be back in your grave by dawn,

Or you’ll end up in lasagne, just like Sean.

(Leave a comment below – tell me what you think:

Is this story wonderful? Weird? Or does it simply stink?

And if you think this tale just isn’t gory

Head to Simon’s blog to try another story.)