Z-factor
Title:- Z-factor
Unbeta'd Flash Fiction for One Minute Writer's daily prompt for Friday 9th November 2012.
Comments and con-crit gratefully received
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The crowd erupted with slow zombie hand clapping and gutteral cheering as Jesse did the final shimmy of his reenactment of Michael Jackson's Thriller dance. It was so easy to emulate the shuffling dance moves when you actually were a zombie. Michael and his dancers just had too much energy, those living the afterlife took things much more easily.
Zombie Ant and Dec shuffled onto the stage as the applause died down and the judges formulated their comments.
"You'll be back next week," Simon Cowell assured Jesse, the audience almost drowning out his comments. Jesse smiled widely soaking up the praise before he was hustled off the stage to make way for the next performer.
"Good job," Ant, or was it Dec, said patting him on the shoulder, before turning back to the stage.
Jesse felt as though he was floating on air as he walked towards the exit. He had never been one to push himself forward whilst he was alive, but now he was dead he thought 'why not?'
"Hold up," one of the stagehands called from behind. He turned at the as the stage crew handed him a bag. Curios he looked inside. It was filled with all the body parts that had fallen off during his routine, amongst them three fingers from his right hand and his left ear. Now he thought about it he had a feeling his left ankle was a little loose inside his knee high Docs.
He sighed. Maybe the afterlife wasn't going to be so good after all.
Unbeta'd Flash Fiction for One Minute Writer's daily prompt for Friday 9th November 2012.
Comments and con-crit gratefully received
-0-
The crowd erupted with slow zombie hand clapping and gutteral cheering as Jesse did the final shimmy of his reenactment of Michael Jackson's Thriller dance. It was so easy to emulate the shuffling dance moves when you actually were a zombie. Michael and his dancers just had too much energy, those living the afterlife took things much more easily.
Zombie Ant and Dec shuffled onto the stage as the applause died down and the judges formulated their comments.
"You'll be back next week," Simon Cowell assured Jesse, the audience almost drowning out his comments. Jesse smiled widely soaking up the praise before he was hustled off the stage to make way for the next performer.
"Good job," Ant, or was it Dec, said patting him on the shoulder, before turning back to the stage.
Jesse felt as though he was floating on air as he walked towards the exit. He had never been one to push himself forward whilst he was alive, but now he was dead he thought 'why not?'
"Hold up," one of the stagehands called from behind. He turned at the as the stage crew handed him a bag. Curios he looked inside. It was filled with all the body parts that had fallen off during his routine, amongst them three fingers from his right hand and his left ear. Now he thought about it he had a feeling his left ankle was a little loose inside his knee high Docs.
He sighed. Maybe the afterlife wasn't going to be so good after all.