A clueless husband wakes up with a zombie next to him instead of his wife. What the hell is up?
Her golden skin turned gray and I jumped out of the bed. My wife had been actin strange all week, but this was some other shit. She smelled like old cabbage. While she was still asleep, I grabbed my phone and dialed 911.
“Hi.” My shaky hand rattled the phone. My wife flinched, though she was still asleep.
“What’s your emergency?”
“M-my wife–she’s turned into some sort of a gray monster.”
The person on the line was dead silent. “Um—sir please explain. Is this some sort of prank?”
“Are you fucking serious? No its not a prank.” My eyes widened as I watched my wife rise from the bed. Her lovely curls were now matted and ratty and her skin continued to turn gray like stone. She charged at me and before I could run she had karate kicked the phone out of my hand. The hell did she learn to do that?
I was scared for my life so I ran towards the door. I never wanted to end up like my dad, with a wife I couldn’t maintain. I sighed as I reached for the door and thankfully I was bombarded with medical personnel.
“Medics!” Three paramedics burst in our house and tackled what was left of my wife.
One of the medics, a male, spoke into his radio. “It’s another one—yep—oxytocin levels very low.” He put his radio down and looked at me. “Sir when is the last time you gave this woman a hug? Or took her out on a date? Bought her something special?”
He asked me all of these things as they prepared a needle for her. She was trying to wiggle free but that had her restrained quite well.
“W-why am I being interrogated?” The medic shook his head at me.
“We’ve been getting cases like this all week. It’s a new condition where women who are deprived of oxytocin turn into—well—zombies.”
I had officially heard it all.
A nurse stuck my zombie wife with a needle and she instantly turned back into my beautiful smooth-skinned wife. Her curls were back to normal and I could see her beautiful dimples again. She smiled when she saw me. “What happened babe?”
One of the medics looked at me, and then at my wife. “Your husband here—he’s got your oxytocin levels really low.” The medic’s eyes dripped with judgment as he scanned me.
“Now give this beautiful woman a hug. And you need to give her at least eight of them a day from here on out. Don’t make us have to come out here for this again.”
I couldn’t lie to myself. They were probably right. I wasn’t the hugging type and I was raised that the man’s sole purpose was to pay bills and keep the lights on and food in the fridge in order to keep a happy wife. Never had it occurred to me that my wife needed something as simple as a hug to keep her—well–from turning into a zombie.
I wrapped my arms around her and smelled the fresh aroma of her strawberry shampoo. “This feels good, baby,” she said.
“Ya know?” I looked down at her pretty face. “It feels good to me too.”
Who knew? Fucking oxytocin.
Copyright 2020 by Nia Venus. All rights reserved.
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