My First nightly tryst

The first vampires' convention taught me the following three golden rules that I must follow as a zombie:

1. Zombies wander at nights.

2. Zombies should never stoop, rather zombies structures are not programmed for stooping.

3. At the first crow of the cock, zombies have to return to their grave.

Well, keeping the three rules engraved deep in my dilapidated heart, I went for my first nightly tryst. Lazy that I am I chose the first house that came in my path. Jackals cried their full-throttled cries, owls hooted to lend in an eerie atmosphere, wind lamented with creepy cries that made me move with a swiftness I surely knew was insaneness of the new world I had been forced into. In the dark, the house, almost weak with age stood promising me my first prey. During my human time, my grandma would tell me that in order to keep zombies out, villagers used to build houses with small doors, knowing the fact that zombies can't stoop. Not wanting to play the zombie role seriously, I wished the house had small door so that in the next convention I can report that I had to return empty-handed each day owing to the low door. But my ill-luck from my human days had followed me to my zombie days too, the door stood tall in front of me giving me the space not only to walk smoothly but had I chosen to jump and hop like a spring, I would still have been able to enter the house without breaking my stiff neck.

Still not beaten in my reluctance to play that role, I started frantically looking for a winnowing sieve hanging somewhere on the door. Now who hasn't heard the myth that if you hang a winnowing sieve on the door, it'll keep the zombie busy, counting the holes in the sieve hence, the zombie would have to return before the task of counting the holes in the sieve would been completed as the cock would crow by then. No such luck, I guess zombies have become such rarity that people have stopped hanging the sieve on the door. I felt like singing a song in rhythm of the snoring that ensued from within. But do zombies ever sing? Well that's a food for thought for people reading this and for me to ask the sorcerer during our next convention. Just then, "titit……titit…….titit…" the alarm clock sounded from inside. Aren't clocks replaced by alarm clocks in the present day world? Yippee! I jumped with joy and darted back to my grave to rest for the day. Have you ever heard of a lousy zombie like me?