Captain Mom’s Log: Week 4: Day 28

I can’t help but notice that the number of days on the log are the same as a certain Danny Boyle film. I imagine chimp-virus zombies climbing our hill. Fast ones. The worst kind.
“The fire is blocking our path! We have to stop it!” Chief Mate cries.
Co-Captain mans the grill while I lounge on my new bench. Smoke billows from the round black receptacle. We have no lighter fluid.
“I need something to block the smoke from my face,” Chief Mate remarks.
“What-ho! We have just been given such a face cover from a far distant ally...”
“Why are you talking like that?” Chief Mate interrupts.
Maybe I was pretending to be King Ezekiel for a second. I’ve got zombies on the brain. Not literally. The meat looks vaguely like brain matter.
I try to steer my thoughts elsewhere. I watch the smoke. It may be hours before we eat. But the weather is pleasant, as is the company, and I have absolutely nothing else to do tonight. I don’t mind one bit.
Unless there is a zombie sighting. That may put a damper on the evening.

END TRANSMISSION

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