If I am lying, I'm dying

My wife and I arrived back in Quartzsite, Arizona, yesterday to promote my murder mystery books, Evil in the Mirror and Day Stalker. As you know, we have been here many times in the past, but this time our visit started out weird from the get go. Click on the title of this blog and you will start to understand.

I did not believe in zombies when we started visiting Quartzsite eleven years ago. It was obvious very strange people did indeed migrate to this part of the lower desert for the winter, but I just thought they were from California or possibly Canada. How was I to know that a herd of zombies had a reunion here every year that numbered close to a half million of the crusty critters from all over the country?

The scary part is that every year I get older, I am looking and acting more like the zombies I see mulling around vendors' tents and RV shows. Are zombies contagious? Am I unwittingly turning into a slow driving gawker, barely able to see over the steering wheel? Will I start huddling around a barbeque with other zombies, screeching and snarling while waiting for rare, almost raw meat? And, what about the place where the largest herd gathers? It’s called the Senior Citizen Center. I find myself wanting to go there for cheap pig meat and over easy eggs this visit!

I think I see a pattern here – and it isn’t good. Excuse me while I go look in the mirror; I must know the truth. Oh, my God, it’s true, I am a zombie now! What am I to do? I am now the walking dead and there is no going back! Oh, well, I might as well walk over to the ice cream tent and pig out on a black cherry waffle cone. You have to make the best of life’s little disappointments, you know.

I’m just drooling,

Mittster