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Zombie Tales: Primrose Court Apt. 305
Zombie Tales: Primrose Court Apt. 305
Zombie Tales: Primrose Court Apt. 305
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Zombie Tales: Primrose Court Apt. 305

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Charles Grimly has marital problems you wouldn't believe. His mommy issues are even worse. He may not be all there, but he's going to have to pull himself together if he plans on making it through this day in one piece.
Enjoy this short story based in the world of my novel Don of the Living Dead.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateSep 13, 2011
ISBN9781466158665
Zombie Tales: Primrose Court Apt. 305
Author

Robert Decoteau

I was born in 1974 in Bremerton, Washington. I moved to Bellingham, Washington at the age of four and have been here ever since. I love living in the Pacific Northwest about two months out of the year. The other ten months it rains. Constant rain gives me plenty of time to read and write. While I'm hooked on writing horror right now, I enjoy many other genres. My favorite author is Robin Hobb, who also lives in the northwest. She is the award winning Fantasy author of Assassin's Apprentice and several sequels. I have one son. I named him Chance. He is currently six going on fifteen. We are both currently enrolled in school, but I am a few grades ahead of him.

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    Zombie Tales - Robert Decoteau

    All rights reserved.

    No part of this work may be reproduced without

    the consent of the author.

    This is a work of fiction.

    Any resemblance to persons (alive or dead),

    places, or events is coincidental

    Smashwords Edition

    Licensing Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    ZOMBIE TALES

    PRIMROSE COURT

    APT. 305

    By

    Robert DeCoteau

    A

    ZOMBIE TALES PRESS

    Publication

    APT. 305

    Baby, please, Charles begged.

    Why do you doing this every time? Mariana asked with her thick Spanish accent, stamping her foot, I tol’ you it is jus’ a job, jus’ work, Charlie. Now get out of the way so I don’t be late again.

    Charles hated having to do this in the courtyard for all the neighbors to see. He wiped his forehead and took a half step towards his wife so she would hear his quiet words.

    But, baby, we talked about this, Charles said in a low voice, I have a lot of money, I have enough that you don’t have to work anymore.

    I know, Charlie, she replied, putting on her pouty face, the face she made when she wanted to get her way, but I need to work, I always take care of myself.

    He loved her accent. He loved her long legs and her thick mane of wavy, black hair. He loved the tits that he had bought for her as a wedding gift. He loved everything about her but her job. Four years running, she had been the main attraction at Rendezvous, the hottest strip club in the Seattle area. Charles used to be a regular there, back when his mother was still alive. He would go there straight from work three or four nights a week and stay until well into the early morning hours. Avoiding his mother and her incessant complaining had been a big part of it, but mostly he went to see Mariana.

    She had caught his eye the very first day she got up on the main stage and awkwardly flung herself around, trying to be provocative. When her song was over, he had hurried to intercept her as she carefully plodded down the three stairs. She hadn’t yet developed the knack of walking in eight inch heels either. She had been wearing an embarrassed and bashful expression when he came to stand in front of her. He had wiped his sweaty hands on the front of his slacks nervously then offered his hand to shake.

    I’m Charles, he had said.

    She looked down at his hand, back up at him, and back down at his hand again, timid, like a little mouse. Finally, she clutched his hand with her fingertips and gave it a little shake, so demur.

    So what’s your name? Charles had asked.

    Marianna, she had said, … I mean, Destiny.

    Destiny, it sounded so lovely the way she said it in her Spanish accent. That was the day Charles began to believe in destiny, the day he fell in love.

    Can I have a dance? Charles had asked, using his cocktail napkin to wipe the sweat off his upper lip.

    She looked around the small club as if she had lost someone and then turned back to him.

    Maybe you like to try one different girl, she had said, I am, how you say… new and… she shrugged.

    I don’t mind, Charles had said with a smile.

    He had spent over two thousand dollars that day. Over and over he had paid for one lap dance after another. She would go off to take her breaks or have to take her turn on the

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