She woke with a start from a sound slumber. The doorbell was ringing incessantly. As if there was an angry woodpecker who had taken offense with the chimes and was then trying to disable them by jack-hammering its beak against the button.

She grabbed her robe, tossing its familiar warmth over her thin pajamas. She didn’t bother with her slippers. Judging by the sound of that doorbell, her time was best spent racing to the door to get whoever was on the other side to go away.

“Who the fuck is it?” She yelled as she unlocked and then swung the door open. It wasn’t until the corpse’s hands slid around her neck that Chelsea remembered, her apartment doesn’t have a doorbell.



On a side note.

Why don’t movies or books about apocalypses ever address the problem that is sure to arise when the many nuclear power plants around the world:

  • go unmanned because all the workers are: zombies, suddenly blind, at home dying from the super flu…etc.
  • fall apart during the earthquake
  • find themselves submerged when the tsunami hits
  • freeze when the sudden ice age hits
  • systems fail when the electricity suddenly goes out

and so on?

copied from

In case it isn’t obvious, I’m in a “mood”. sigh.

Hope you’re having a good day though.



4 thoughts on “Doorbell

  1. I’m trying to count in between the pulsing of those red circles, but I think my state wins the nuclear power plant lottery! Illinois may be flat broke, but we got the cool toys!

    1. My home state is clear of both silos and fall out “circles” but I fled it to live where? In the south east where I am doomed to die a horrible, radiated death should things go tits up. smh…

      1. I’d be more worried about living without air conditioning in the southeast than the nuclear fallout (spoken by a true Upper Midwesterner, who starts complaining when the temperature hits 80 – without the humidity).

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