I'm a Zombie?

"I'm a zombie."

"Okay."

"It feels like someone has eaten my brains."

"Dramatic much?" Martha does a big huff.

"No actually. I've never been more serious in my life."

"First off, zombies are not on planet Earth."

"Says you!"

"And secondly, your head seems fine. But what do I know?"

"I'm worried about my sanity. This is no joke Patrice!"

"Here we are, enjoying a nice Sunday brunch and having stimulating conversation. I especially enjoyed our debate on solar energy. Why ruin the mood and discuss brain-eating zombies?" Patrice pats Martha's leg.

"Ask me what I did last night..."

"Can we discuss a gym membership versus outdoor exercise? That could be quite interesting." Patrice bats her eyelashes at Martha.

"Ask me."

"Do I have to?" Martha puts her arms across her chest.

"Well, you're no fun." Patrice looks at Martha who looks distressed. "Okay, okay sheesh. What did you do last night?"

"I don't remember," Martha whispers.

"Listen Martha. I've forgotten what I did last night too." Patrice shrugs.

"Seriously?" Martha looks hopeful.

"No. I'm trying to make you feel better. I spent last night working with clay. Messy, but I love the feel of it in my hands. Definitely different then the oil paints I've been working with. I needed a change."

"I'm going to strangle you!"

"You're not the first person to tell me this and you're probably not the last. But seriously," Patrice covers Martha's hand with her own."Everybody has memory lapses. It comes with being with women of a certain age. We are not young women anymore."

"Not like this," Martha says shaking her head.

"Well...let's hope the zombie who ate your brain burps it back into your head." Martha whacks Patrice in the arm.

"Ouch. Why did you do that?" She rubs her arm.

"For being a shit! I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you!"

"Alright, alright, alright! So how long has this been going on for?"

"Awhile." Both women look at each other. Patrice raises an eyebrow and Martha takes a deep breath and releases it. Patrice is starting to look a bit concerned.

"Spit it out Martha...well not literally of course." Martha blows out her breath.

"I'm a freak."

"Well, I could have told you that," Patrice snickers.

"I am going to kill you!"

"Eat my brains instead, then we can communicate better."

"I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you! You're being impossible!"

"Not impossible, merely taxing." Patrice says. "Now, I want to help you with this brain thingy. I want to know about it being MIA. I would like to know about what makes you freakish. You have to be the most laid back person I know...I would even say sometimes you can be a bit boring."

"Exactly!"

"Well, except when that slut tried to have bathroom sex at that Italian restaurant with your hubby. That was interesting"

"Ugh. Don't remind me...there is a valid reason why he is my ex."

"So, back to the boring you and the lack of brain thingee."

"Geez Patrice. You know how to make a person feel awesome."

"I'm just giving you a hard time. Like I said, what are friends for?" Patrice shrugs and takes a sip of her Americano.

"You're an ass."

"Agreed. Now tell me about your memory problems."

"It was ever since we went out for wine. When was that again?"

"Hmmm, I think it was about a month ago. Where that creep tried to pick you up...and you actually managed to take him home if memory serves me right. We're getting a little old for those shenanigans btw."

"Ugh. Don't remind me. I barely managed to hog-wrestle him out the door. I make a good coffee apparently, enough for someone to stick around for second cup. He must use drip at home."

"I'm pretty thankful to be in a relationship...no matter how dysfunctional it is."

"Well, ever since that morning my memory has been sketchy."

"Was he a zombie?"

"I don't think so, but I wondered if perhaps he did something to me while I was sleeping."

"Voodoo?"

"No idea. Is that even a real thing? He did have weird eyes though if I remember correctly. Strange pupils."

"Demon eyes?"

"Maybe he hypnotised me!"

"Calm down and let's discuss this on some reasonable level that I can understand."

"Thinking back on it...I'm pretty sure that he could have been a demon, not a zombie. The sounds he made when we were...doing it...almost a howl."

"Werewolf?"

"Maybe."

"Is this somekind of paranormal romance thriller. Did you even get his name?"