The Zombie Catastrophe

WEARY MAN

When all departed, he remained alone in the silence.

The shirt was back in place, adjusted neatly on his form, but he did not have the heart to say all the goodbyes, handshakes, and greetings that followed after such meetings… all the officiality and pretence towards diplomacy. Physically, mentally, emotionally — he was exhausted on all fronts, and he rested his head on the table.

It wearied him that he had ended a war on one front that began another on himself. Where were the heads of state when himself and the army put themselves at risk to save everyone else. Now, they came to ask for power — which he had not taken, but had quite naturally drifted towards him as the hero of the war.

He managed to get himself to stand and dragged himself to his car, half attentive to the salutes the soldiers who saw him gave, their bodies stretched to the maximum while their feet stomped hard enough on the earth beneath them to cause earthquakes. At the car, his chauffeur offered to drive him, but h