A Zombie Tale- Mary

As I'm developing this story, bits and pieces come to me. This is the newest bit about the character Mary that was briefly mentioned in my first writing.

Mary’s appeal came more from her inner strength than from those almond shaped eyes and full lips. With deliberate hands, she’d tend to daily chores, agonizing over spotless floors and tidy spaces with a curious expression. With feet bare, she’d care to her garden, loving the sensation of the moist earth between her toes. In the corner of the garden she’d taken to reading under a giant willow with drooping branches. Under its cool shadow, we would make love and she’d cry out in mock protest and a teasing smile. Burrowed in her golden brown hair that smelled of jasmine and wind, I was safe.

I remember the day she told me she was pregnant. Her eyes sparkled and she had a quietly satisfied look to her. She hugged her stomach and I hugged them both, feeling her tears wet my cheek.

Even when her belly grew big and cumbersome, she never looked more ethereal. I’d find her sprawled amongst her wild flowers, humming and speaking softly. She spoke of motherhood in great awe and I knew we were safe.

We thought nothing of the riots and violent outbreaks in faraway cities, believing life was good and the people more content here. With little more than fleeting pity, we went to work, ate and slept comfortably in our beds, thinking about everyday business.

Early one morning I woke up to Mary rocking in her chair beside the bed with her eyes closed and sweat on her brow, taking deliberate breaths in and out. The sun was rising making her hair glow like a fiery halo. She felt my gaze and opened her eyes.

“It’s time”, she said.

Nervous and excited we rush to the hospital unsure of what to expect. But when the doctor shook his head and told us, “I’m truly sorry for your loss.” Mary whispered, “ No.” Mary’s lips were blue and her face pale but her almond eyes glistened with unfallen tears.It all happened so fast. I didn’t see the blood stained sheets, droplets collecting in scarlet puddles on the floor. A nurse pushed me into the hall and shutting the door in my face.

I heard muffled noise from within the room and an alarm went off. Shock suddenly set in and I could feel myself being guided to a private waiting room. They were saying something but I just shook my head in denial. I whispered, "No."

Author's Note

Do you think it has potential for a short story? Comment about anything and everything. Much thanks.

Reviews

[nostal]

I find it slightly incredulous that they wouldn't panic about hearing news about zombie outbreaks. I also felt that it got rushed near the ending. This sort of reminded me of World War Z and the separate narratives that the survivors recount. This is drenched in potential and if you round out the characters, make them less flat, and you flesh out the story, then this will be something utterly enthralling.

[J.R. Whinehouse]

Oh my goodness! please continue this! I think this could be the beginning of a very good short story.

[Becca Bishop]

Good job describing her!!! But I don't think they really show enough emotion when they're told that the baby dies. I mean, I'd do more than yell "Impossible!!!" I'd probably start crying. I think this has great potential; keep going :D

[J. A. Benton]

I think it does have the potential to be a short story. It was well-written.

[zainul]

Great write.