Somehow I had a map with me. I could see red dots merging in and out. And them converging on black dots.

I knew this: “I needed to save myself.”

I needed not to be eaten. I needed to survive. I needed to save those who I loved.

In the building, I was patting myself on the back for purchasing the one-year supply of emergency food. Yet, it was keeping me back. Keeping me in the house with my supplies. A precious supplies. That night, I started digging a hole to place the remaining 10 months, hoping that I could return later. It was mine after all. My generosity can only be given those who I want to save. If I had that power.

If they didn’t see me, I could run with my heavy backpack filled with a few days of supplies—I hoped that I could subsist on it until I found him. If they didn’t see me, my non-athletic self would not struggle for breath after every blocks.

This is what I dreamed this morning and all I wanted to do upon waking is see a zombie rom-com.