Zombie Drabble #284 “Leaving Las Vegas”

Harold was piss-himself drunk, laying on the floor, waiting for the office break room to stop spinning around him. The building he had holed himself up in had a liquor store on the first floor, and he’d managed to get down into through the ceiling two weeks ago. This was the first time he’d allowed himself the luxury of getting completely wasted, and not because it was New Year’s Eve: it had taken him this long to zombie-proof the building. Now that he was sure he wouldn’t be eaten, he was seriously considering never allowing himself to sober up again.

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