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Rehearsal Dinner

"I donít know about this, Janice," Tex said as we stood outside the fortune tellerís door. "I have a bad feeling."

"Itís just for laughs, Tex," I said. Actually I wanted assurance.

The old woman waved her hand over the crystal sphere. It clouded over, her eyes rolled white, then turned black. She muttered something I didnít understand. Things got fuzzy, then cleared.

Tex and I found ourselves sitting at a long table, friends and family surrounding us.

"Dinner is served," the head caterer said. The meal was perfect. Guests were enjoying themselves, chatting pleasantries.

"To Tex and Janice," someone toasted us.

"Run for your life!" A server staggered into the room, blood pouring from a shoulder. "Zombies are attacking!"

"Zombies?" I looked at Tex.

Zombies fumbled and stumbled their way in, grabbing guests and servers. Rotting teeth bit through living flesh. Blood sprayed the walls.

"Take that, you bastard," a server shouted smacking a zombieís head with a marble cutting board. The zombie head rolled to my feet; dead black eyes stared at me. "Beware the Ides of March," it croaked.

"What are the Ides of March?" Tex asked.

"March 15," I screamed. "Our wedding day."

Tex grabbed a punch bowl from the table to hurl at a zombie.

"Sir, you canít have that," the old fortune teller took the crystal orb from his hand.

"What the hell just happened?" Tex asked.

We stared at each other.

"Letís set a new date," we said together.

Story by:

Carla Girtman

submitted at 12:41am

19 May 2009