Holding hands, they stopped outside the cemetery’s fence. It had been a good first date.
“Do you like zombie stories?” he asked.
She nodded.
“This fence wasn’t here before the zombification disaster of ’98. I was the only zombie that escaped the cemetery that night, jumping onto a passing trolley. After that, a fence was scientifically built to keep the zombies within dormant.”
“Your story is flawed,” she said. “No trollies ran here in 1998, so you failed to scare me.”
“I was referring to 1898.”
Her brain barely registered this information before the zombie ripped it from her skull.
Author’s Note: The lesson to be learned from this drabble? If your date says that they are a zombie, then run away. Historically, zombies are slow runners and you will probably escape.