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A few nights ago I dreamed that the sun did not come up as usual. At nine am I awoke to darkness. Confused I glanced out the window to see several of my neighbors walking around in the street apparently dazed. I hurriedly dressed and joined them, glancing up to see where the sun might be hiding, perhaps behind a dark cloud or something. But, as I searched for the sun I could only see stars and the blackness of space. Behind me I could heard crying, a low mournful sound that you might expect at a funeral. I turned to see the face of my crying neighbor and was shocked at her apppearance. It was not the face I was accustomed to seeing. Her face was ashen, pale like death. As I noticed her condition I began to notice that all my neighbors had the same coloring, or lack thereof. Death had visited my friends in the darkness of the day. I wondered if I, too, were among the walking dead. I cast a glance at my reflection in my window and realized I alone was alive.
Fear griped my soul as I thought about wandering the Earth alone but surrounded by walking corpses.
I awoke with a start, relieved to see the light streaming through my bedroom window.
