The Love That Cannot Speak Its Name: Horror

She was working in the garden when she saw him, her fingers sinking into moist, yielding soil as she dug out the hard, knobbly potatoes that would get her through the winter. He stood by the forest line, the mottled brown and green of his skin almost blending into the trees. Her first thought was for the shotgun, that she'd foolishly left on the porch. She hadn't seen a zombie in six months and had thought that they might have all wasted away by now. She knew that they would, if they didn't get a certain amount of human matter in their system regularly. Her second thought was for the shovel beside her.


Inspiration: Erotic/romantic zombie stories seem to be the latest thing. I was wondering if it was even possible.
Story potential: High.
Notes: Somewhat distressingly, I think that I could pull this off. So to speak. He'd earn his red wings. She'd become jealous, wondering if that was how he'd survived until now. He couldn't talk. There would be weird relationship dynamic fuckuppery. There'd be a bigger threat, to him or her or both of them. Oooh...menopause could be a threat to their relationship in an entirely new way. Weird. This could be a seriously twisted story.