March 16, 2018

For this city-wide game, 13 members of the crowd had been preselected as zombies. Everyone was gathered in the main intersection to find groupmates for their initial alliances - despite not knowing who will turn out to be the enemy. As the clock struck zero, the zombies were revealed and the game began. People were running in all directions. A friend was revealed to be a zombie and they seemed rather upset about it.

While I was running in an alleyway, two people in green shirts covered in blood grabbed onto my wrist. From my understanding, this meant that I was now also a zombie - but I realized that I never really read the rules of the game carefully. Nevertheless, these two fellows were now acting like I was a part of them, so I played along.

I walked up to the gate of a construction zone and the person guarding it wouldn’t let me through. When I wouldn’t leave, they threatened me with a pair of scissors and said they would call for the others. I swiftly slipped away.

It was already night by the time I arrived at the open bar. I spotted a rulebook on a table by the far side of the room. For some reason, I felt that if I wasn’t discreet about taking a peek at the rules, I would be suspected of being a zombie - or worse, a spy or zombie sympathizer.

The waiter asked me what I wanted to order as I was holding the menu in front of me. I was thinking about the fried chicken sandwich. I overheard someone talking about how they developed rashes after jumping into a swimming pool.