Everybody looks like a zombie. He was fitting in and that bugged him. He wasn’t born to become a zombie; he was a human being and a reasonably cute baby when he was little.
There was this zombie driving a car. No, that’s wrong, he was not quite zombie, just one of those hybrids.
Anyways, he was driving his car across a bridge whilst listening to a talk radio programme. The river was wide and sure of itself many feet beneath him and the sun had not yet climbed into any sense of sky.
Chimneys were belching and some distant hoot of some marine alert was trying its best to gain some attention.
Anyways, this guy who is not quite a zombie, but is probably on his way to becoming one, is driving his car, listening to the two presenters on the radio, making sure that he is keeping his speed to a reasonable level, and watching some other jocks racing along the outside lane in order to zip back into his lane later (just as soon as a couple of inches appear in…
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