…how well the film had been going. My directorial debut was three weeks ahead of schedule, the dailies looked fantastic, and it seemed we’d be wrapped in another two weeks.
The day the dead rose I was extraing to help contain costs, and was in full makeup when real corpses started shambled into the set. Nobody could tell extras from undead.
So I ran. And, when the first group of survivors I ran into shot at me, I kept running. I’ve been running ever since.
It’s lonely, being trapped between worlds. But I try to make the best of it…
Friday, February 18, 2011
The Most Unfair Part Is...
Labels:
100 words,
Drabble,
Hollywood,
Horror Films,
Short story,
zombie Apokalypse,
Zombies
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