"I want you," Amanda whispered. "I've got chills."
"That's the blood settling into gravitational pooling." Jasfoup stroked the soft skin of her neck."
"And an itch I can't scratch."
"Fly eggs. They'll be multiplying."
"And my legs are shaking."
"You're losing control. You're feeling the desire for your spirit to let go of its connection to your body."
"There's another explanation."
"What's that?" He could feel her breath against the inside of his cheek, could taste the corruption that had already begun deep inside her internal organs.
"You're the one that I want. The one that I've been looking for."
"Ooh!" Jasfoup pulled away. "Sorry, love. I don't do zombies."
"Why not?" Amanda took a step forward to close the distance between them. "I'm pretty, aren't I? You're attractive. I could just eat you up."
"That's partly what I'm afraid of." Jasfoup edged to the door. "Look. If you don't actually want me to lop your head off forget all this nonsense. I'm honestly not into you in that way. Post an ad on i-Love or something. There'll be a thousand young lads climbing over themselves to be deflowered on your dubious virtues,"
"I don't want boys. I want a real man." Amanda collapsed on the arm of the sofa. "I want a real man. Someone who's not afraid to love and be loved."
"Wouldn't it be necrophilia?" Jasfoup's phone rang. "Excuse me. I have to take this." He pressed the call receive button and stepped into the kitchen. "Winston! My main man!"
"Do you know what time it is?"
Jasfoup glanced at the screen. "Nine-twenty. Why?"
"It's God-early in the morning. That's what time it is."
"To be fair, the sign on your garage says you open at nine."
"It's a creative nine, though."
"More like eleven or twelve."