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CHAPTER FOUR
They Don't Write 'Em Like That Anymore

We both just stared at each other for a while. My very first thoughts were to go up and grab her, then kiss her and tell her I love her. Maybe ask her to marry me. I didn’t have a ring though, so it didn’t seem right. Her first thoughts were apparently to say “Tim” in a rather shocked manner. At least that’s what she did, anyway.

“Tim,” she said in a rather shocked manner.

“Winter,” I said in an also shocked, albeit not quite as shocked manner.

“Helloooo,” Bunni said in an only ever so slightly shocked manner.

“Timothy here,” started Winter, addressing Bunni’s apparent need for information about situations she finds herself in, which is surprising considering the other aspects she’s displayed, “Is my boyfriend. Well, I suppose it’s my ex-boyfriend now. Especially seeing which room he just came out of.”

This made me feel somewhat ashamed of myself for being so weak like that. Then again, I thought her dead for years, so what did that dumb cow expect? I’m sorry my darling. I didn’t mean for to call you a cow. It just makes for a much better sounding phrase. Well Bunni shrugged and went back in her room, saying she thought it would be best to leave us two alone. She was actually a surprisingly smart girl, once you got to know her. I, on the other hand, was not so lucky. Winter pushed out a chair with her foot, and told me to have a seat. I took the hint. It occurred to me that I might want to put on more than long underwear, if we were about to have a conversation, since my belly had gotten suddenly cold. Then I noticed that Winter had a hand on it. She sighed and then removed her hand and used it to pick up her last piece of toast.

“Umm… If you don’t mind my asking, why are you eating toast?” It seemed a logical question to me, since all the films I’ve seen had living dead people feasting upon human flesh or, more popularly, human brains.

“I suppose you expect I should be gnawing on your arm?” That Winter had always been a rather sharp one. “Well it just so happens that the undead don’t actually need to consume anything at all since their digestive system ceases to function anyhow. I am most likely going to have to vomit this up, since it has no chance of going all the way through my intestines. So, in answer to your question, I am eating toast because I want to hold on to some form of normalcy. And because I have a love of peanut butter, but I’m sure you remember that.” She stopped munching her final bite of toast, and downed it with a glass of milk. I wouldn’t want to be around when she got that out of her body. She looked into my eyes. “I’ve missed you, Timothy.”

“I’ve missed you too, Winter. Allah only knows how I’ve missed you. Jehovah only realized how I’ve yearned for you. God only grasps how I’ve…”

“Please stop repeating yourself, Timothy.”

“Sorry.”

I looked down to the table. I’d never had a girlfriend come back from the dead before, and I wasn’t really sure how to go about the whole thing. I cupped my hands on the table and wondered what Jesse James would do if he met Frankenstein’s daughter. Probably there’d be a lot of shooting and carrying on, but I always fell asleep half way through the movie and had never found out how it ended. Winter reached over and took my hand in hers. I look at her and she at me, and we were there forever. It was terribly romantic. Then, she spoke.

“I think we should see other people.”

I walked down the street in a hurry. I really didn’t know where I was going, but then again I really didn’t care. After getting my clothes out of Bunni’s room my only thought had been to get as far away from both of those two as I could. Let’s still be friends indeed. Who did she think she was? Winter was the only girl I ever loved. You can’t just suddenly come back from the dead and into your lover’s life only to split from them. It’s just not polite. I hustled along, ignoring general traffic rules and the like. Maybe I’d get hit by a car, I thought, that would certainly show her, but alas, this wasn’t to come. As I walked by a restaurant’s back alley, where I saw a couple cats fighting it out over the remains of a sandwich, I starting whistling Brazil to myself. It seemed appropriate at the time, but now I can’t really figure why I thought so. Finally, my wandering came to a conclusion, when I ended up outside the door of a place called Twain’s Used Book Shoppe. Naturally, being interested in books, I went inside.