There was a knock. I thought if I ignored it, it would go away. It didn’t. The knocking grew louder. It was 3 a.m. My cottage was set back far off the road in Dennis, Massachusetts on Cape Cod.
People didn’t bother other people here. I didn’t expect anyone at this hour. I grabbed my baseball bat and flung open the door
“Honey, I’m surprised to see you,” I said. It was my wife. I thought she was gone.
“I’ll bet you are,” she said.
“Come in.” There was something a little funny about the way she walked.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Sure, fine. I knew I would find you here. You always loved the Cape. You always come here the last week in June. You’re such a creature of habit.”
“I haven’t seen you in months,” I said.
“Don’t worry, the poison worked.” She smiled.
“If it worked you’d be dead.”
“Well, yes and no, I’m a Zombie now,” she said.
She always had a flair for make-up, I thought to myself, just before she ate my face.