Chatting with some friends about Advent calendars and Christmas, we got onto the subject of fig rolls and zombies (as you do).
It was such a weird combination it tickled my quirky nature and this was the result.
It wasn’t fun being one of the undead. Since I’d been killed in a robbery gone wrong I had roamed about trying to find something that remained always just out of reach.
Having been brought up a Christian I believed in the simplicity of Heaven for the good, Hell for the bad.
Robbing the supermarket had seemed a good idea at the time. Even the gun I threatened the cashier with wasn’t real, just a toy I had purloined from their own children’s department.
How was I to know that with the heightened terrorists’ scares they would have armed police on the premises?
Returning to the scene of the crime I was able to enter without setting off any alarms. I wandered about for a bit, retracing my steps to the exact spot where the nightmare had begun.
At least this time I could complete my mission. Reaching out towards the packet of fig rolls on the biscuit display my hand passed straight though them.
Agh. This must be what they mean by purgatory.