Untitled Story 1
Notes/Warnings:
I randomly thought of this idea one night as I tried falling asleep. I was still in high school, I think.
No content warnings.
The fog rolled in from the moors, a typical morning sight in Ullapool. Forty-seven year old Allister Lowry rose from his bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Getting up, he staggered past his wife.
"Morning, love," he said as he walked past.
She groaned in response; it'd be odd nowadays if she didn't.
Allister continued to the bathroom where he relieved himself and took a look in the mirror.
"Damn," he swore aloud. His face was still lacking a beard. It had been his whole life. He loved his Scottish qualities: his ginger hair, the aged look about him, his temper. The one thing he lacked was a beard. Not wanting to linger on the thought, he continued on to his shower. The water was out. Two years now and he still hadn't gotten used to it. Sighing, he got dressed and stepped outside. His neighbors were already out and about, but they always were so Allister was not surprised. He continued down the street where he entered the hardware store his dad owned. Nepotism ensured that Allister had retained his job there for the past thirty years. As usual his father Malcolm was already there.
"Any work for me today, pop?" he asked expectantly.
His father groaned, warranting a sigh from Allister. He was used to the groans but he really did miss his dear old dad's voice. And his mum's. His wife, eh, he was still fine with not hearing.
"Bite test!" Allister proclaimed with a shy grin as we waved his arm before his dad's face.
There was no response.
"Looks like you're all still ignoring me then," Allister sighed and exited the shop.
He really did want to die. Or at least be like everyone else. He couldn't bring himself to do the former and nobody would allow him to do the latter. He still didn't know why these creatures he once knew now ignored him.
Life was hard being the only human in a town full of the undead.
Shh... don't wake her up.
