“So, what are you going to order?” she asked.

The blonde across from her smiled and said, “I was thinking breakfast.”

Sally sighed and answered, “You read my mind.”

“So why did you ask?” Viv said.

Sally shrugged.  “I dunno.  Because I could.”

The two girls giggled like the old friends they were.

The waitress approached, tray in hand, and gave them the typical, “Whaddya want?” when asking for their order.  After asking for eggs, bacon, grits and biscuits, the two girls settled back into casual conversation.  It had been a while.  No one gets out much these days, you know.

Outside the window of the café, they watched a very large man and a skinny woman play checkers.  She obviously was confused and he was teaching her.  Who doesn’t know how to play checkers?  A few minutes later, the misters came on.

“Seriously?” Viv said.  “It’s like two hundred degrees out there.  And they still come out?”

Sally gave a shrug.  “Well, you know what they say.  Zombies are the mindless, brainless bits of society!”

Again, they laughed in unison.

The couple playing checkers got up very quickly and hurried inside.  The little boy at the table next to them stuck his nose against the window.  His mother tried to scrape him off but he just kept squashing his face on the glass.

“Look, Mama!  Here they come!” he yelled.

A collective groan filled the café.  The waitress delivered food to our two favorite diners. 

Outside, a low moaning sound filled the air.  In the hot sun, the asphalt sizzled but it didn’t seem to bother the ones that now dragged their rotting corpses towards the café.  The bullet proof glass would keep them out but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t try to get inside.

While Sally and Viv enjoyed their breakfasts, a group of twenty to twenty-five of the zombified creatures, once human beings, began making their way onto the wooden patio in from of the café.  Conversation began to ebb and flow again inside, but outside the monsters crept closer and closer to the windows.

“Ooh,” said the little boy.  “Look at that one, Momma!  He’s missing an arm!”

Sure enough, there he was.  Probably no more than thirty years old when he’d turned into one of the menacing horde, the young man was still wearing his suit and tie from his work day. His last work day.  His left arm was missing, his jacket frayed where it had been torn from his body.  What was left of his hair stuck up in comical angles from his head, half of which had been scalped completely at some point so that the white bone of his skull showed. 

The others were in no better shape.  Skin was grayish green and sloughing in some areas.  Zombies don’t bleed due to their lack of circulation but some of them showed blood on their clothing from the attacks that had turned them in the first place.  One woman was missing her shirt and her misshapen breasts were barely hiding within her dirty, white cotton bra.  One man’s leg was turned at an odd angle, where the bone had been broken.  He walked in an Igor-style drag.  Another was missing his bottom jaw.  Now how did that happen?

Viv buttered a biscuit and dipped it in some gravy.  “Really?” she said quietly.  “You think parents would teach their kids not to comment on the zombies in a restaurant.”

Sally snorted laughter.  “Seriously.  I mean, we all have to deal with them but that doesn’t mean we need to discuss them.”

Together, they sniveled behind their respective forks.

“At least they turned on the zombie misters,” Viv said with her mouth around a piece of crispy bacon. 

“Yeah, thank God for that,” Sally said.  “I hate it when places don’t even have misters and you have to sit around and wait until they go away.”

Viv sighed.  “Places like that should at least give you some sort of zombie raid discount when these guys show up.”

One elderly zombie, his white hair matted around his head and one eye hanging gently on his cheek, reached the window.  His skin began to bubble suddenly and the moan that escaped him could have been one of pain had he had any sensation at all left in his fried brain.  His nails clacked on the unbreakable glass window and he gave one pound with a balled up fist.  Then his head hit the glass and he slid down, saliva streaking the pane from the point where he hit to the point where he disappeared onto the ground.

Sally put a forkful of eggs into her mouth, the yolk running down her chin.  She gave a laugh and used her napkin to wipe it from her face.  “Yummy,” she said.  “These are good eggs.”

Slowly, one by one, she and Viv watched the zombies begin to collapse under the effect of the zombie mist. The little boy was talking non-stop, giving a running commentary on the bodies as they fell.  Sally and Viv just rolled their eyes and finished up their meals. 

When all the zombies were nothing but the rotting corpses they were, an elderly gentleman appeared outside on the patio.  In his hand, he held a very large, very firm broom.  While customers who were waiting began heading to their cars out in the parking lot, the old man began to push the bodies out of sight, using only his broom.  All the while he was grumbling but neither Viv nor Sally could hear what he was saying through the thick glass.  It didn’t matter though because they both were more interested in ordering dessert.