Friday, May 30, 2014

'FINISHING SCHOOL' for a ZOMBIE PRINCESS ... 5/30/14

They sat on the terrace...not a balcony... a terrace. Balconies are rather flimsy, modern affairs with weak, aluminum rails and barriers. Terraces are made from bricks and slate and stone. Eva Gabor had one on GREEN ACRES... before they left New York, I mean. Madam Blavatska had one too. That was her name, Blavatska and she was a zombie too. But a highly assimilated one able to share conventional meals with human acquaintances, even if her lunch tended to be watery bisque or runny poached eggs. She was disciplined. She could do that. 

Opal wore a dark, smock-like dress. Wednesday Addams had one just like it... dark leotards... white collar... white cuffs. The buttons were finest rib bone... human rib bone. Only the best. She and her stately instructor occupied an outdoor settee... traditional... white painted steel.... hand stitched canvas cushions trimmed with white piping. The 'Madam' sipped tea... Russian chai, to be precise. Opal had diet soda. Zombies drink a lot of that.

They gazed out over the city beneath a soft, white, silvery sky. The air was damp... almost misty. And the distant traffic, down below was almost quiet..... Madam said - How was your feeding?....... Fine - said Opal. Hortense and Blanche took me down...... And? - asked the stately one.... I did as you said. I had one of the children..... And Opal almost cried..... They drug them, you know. Most laugh like maniacs through the whole thing - said Blavatska. What kind did you have?.... A little Laotian girl. Three and a half years old I think she was - whispered Opal. She told me. Said she liked my hair...... They sat in silence til the Madam said - Some of them talk a lot. East Asians impart a certain willowy strength and grace. You can taste it in the blood. Even when they're born here and raised on whatever it is the North Americans eat, they still taste the same way...... Then she straightened up and said - Show me your wrist..... Opal did. The older woman pushed up her sleeve and examined the skin.... Good, good - she said. Firm and supple. Now the eyes..... She lifted Opal's chin and carefully took ocular inventory, obviously impressed by the clarity and focus. .... Then she questioned her in German, both Hoch Deutsch and Platt Deutsch. Opal passed that test too. The lessons were going well. Soon they'd assign her to a team. Although she couldn't breed yet, not officially anyway, she could still kill.

A troublesome, anti-fracking politician would be first. Not him. His wife. But he'd get the message. Needs a more photogenic one if he wants to be senator anyway. Serves her right. Good for her. At least she'll be on the news.

They discussed upcoming lessons, diction, elocution and all that. Then Opal went in to catatonically stare at the fish. They had a really big tank. Zombies like to stare at fish. 

After she left the one hundred and sixty seven year old Russian, zombie emigre reached into a planter, pulled out a bottle of vodka and took a long, stiff drink.

Then a bird crapped on her head... She sighed and drank some more...

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