Zombie Apocalypse

I kept thinking you would grow tired of being dead because there was nothing to do. You were always doing something. The year after you left, I tried my best to keep all the plates spinning your mania wouldn't let you drop. I failed. Most days I couldn't get out of bed, much less weed your garden or continue renovations. I kept the cat alive. I kept myself alive. Everything else went to shit.

I had dreams that the zombie apocalypse came and you were a zombie and we rode out the apocalypse playing Yahtzee and drinking what was left of the wine cellar. Then I would wake up and you were still dead. So I would go down to the real wine cellar and drink until I went back to sleep. I drink only the finest wines now, but I'm still the trailer trash you found those years ago, as you were apt to point out whenever you were drunk.