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    Zombie Tales: Primrose Court Apt. 205
    Zombie Tales: Primrose Court Apt. 205
    Zombie Tales: Primrose Court Apt. 205
    Ebook49 pages47 minutes

    Zombie Tales: Primrose Court Apt. 205

    By Robert Decoteau

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    About this ebook

    Theodore Granger believes he’s cursed. He’s spent the last ten years locked away. But today is his day, the day he is to venture out into the world again. There is only one simple task on his agenda: walk one block, cross the street, and have a cup of coffee . The only problem is, he chose the wrong day.
    Enjoy this short story based in the world of my novel Don of the Living Dead.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRobert Decoteau
    Release dateSep 17, 2011
    ISBN9781465807953
    Zombie Tales: Primrose Court Apt. 205
    Author

    Robert Decoteau

    I was born in 1974 in Bremerton, Washington. I moved to Bellingham, Washington at the age of four and have been here ever since. I love living in the Pacific Northwest about two months out of the year. The other ten months it rains. Constant rain gives me plenty of time to read and write. While I'm hooked on writing horror right now, I enjoy many other genres. My favorite author is Robin Hobb, who also lives in the northwest. She is the award winning Fantasy author of Assassin's Apprentice and several sequels. I have one son. I named him Chance. He is currently six going on fifteen. We are both currently enrolled in school, but I am a few grades ahead of him.

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      Book preview

      Zombie Tales - Robert Decoteau

      All rights reserved.

      No part of this work may be reproduced without

      the consent of the author.

      This is a work of fiction.

      Any resemblance to persons (alive or dead),

      places, or events is coincidental

      Smashwords Edition

      Licensing Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      ZOMBIE TALES

      PRIMROSE COURT

      APT. 205

      By

      Robert DeCoteau

      A

      ZOMBIE TALES PRESS

      Publication

      Apt. 205

      The alarm clock chirped its disapproval of me; I glanced over to see that it was right on time, 9:00. I slapped it quiet and then laid there on my back for a moment longer, organizing my thoughts. Today was the big day. Today I would break my routine and venture out into the world for the first time in nearly ten years. My task today was to meet Dr. Harriet at my local Starbucks and have my first face to face therapy session. Just the thought of it made my fingers tingle and my heart pound a little harder.

      Agoraphobia is an irrational fear of wide open spaces, a fear of crowds, or a fear of uncontrolled social situations. For me it was all three. I don’t leave my apartment… ever. Some agoraphobic people are plagued by panic attacks. In fact, many psychotherapists believe the phobia is a byproduct of a panic disorder. In my case, this is not true. My condition is a result of conscious decisions. I don’t leave my house because I don’t want to die. It’s that simple.

      Some might say I’m the luckiest person on the planet, there was a time when I might have agreed, but now I believe I’m cursed and one day that curse will be the end of me.

      Climbing from the warm comfort of my bed I pulled the sheet off and tossed it into a basket with yesterday’s bedding. I removed my pajama bottoms and underpants and deposited them in a separate hamper.

      Lined up on top of my chest-of-drawers was everything I would need for this part of my morning routine. From a large box, I removed a single handy-wipe, peeled away the foil packaging, and sterilized my hands before squeezing them into fresh latex gloves. I put on my surgical mask and cap. The spray can of Lysol that I kept on the nightstand was getting low. I would have to remember to add that to my shopping list. I sprayed the bare mattress, flipped it, and coated the bottom side as well.

      Next, I used the wipe on the outside of the Lysol can, focusing heavily on the dispenser button. Finally, I treated the alarm clock. Each of the buttons was meticulously scrubbed and I used a folded corner of the wipe to get in all of the cracks and crevices.

      With the gloves, handy-wipe, and foil wrapper deposited into the proper disposal receptacle, I moved on to my bathroom routine. First were the teeth, always the teeth. I unwrapped today’s toothbrush, applied paste, and began: twenty-seven little circles for each tooth, spit, rinse, repeat.

      The brush and its wrapper were deposited in the trash and I moved on to scrubbing my face. I washed my hands, put on my second set of latex gloves, and started the shower.

      When I was eight years old, I almost died. One Sunday we left our little town just outside Dallas, heading for the country. This was back when my father loved to go on Sunday drives. About an hour into our trip, my mother

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