Hungry Zombie: A DHL Story

I was pronounced dead on arrival, on a warm Monday evening at roughly 7 PM.

I remember it was a tough, long day at work. I had many problems wrapping up all my tasks before I leave my position in two weeks’ time. Exhausted, I slept in the car while my sister drove. Lights passed from the window, briefly illuminating my unconsciousness as I swam along the shores two weeks from now.

An SMS woke me up. I read it in disbelief. It was regarding a delayed DHL shipment of mine. I sent my cousin, in Sweden, a lovely birthday gift, in a giant 70 cm frame to his desires.

I called up the DHL office, and a gentleman answered my plea for aid. He said he would inform me as soon as he gets information.

Hours of agony passed.

burst my bubble

What a nice warm evening… on a day like this I would be cruising around Dubai, enjoying the lives of other people.

The man called me back.

“Yes sir this is regarding your shipment,” he said.
“It cannot be delivered,” he announced, rather unapologetically.
“How come?!” I inquired, rather naively.
“It has been damaged..”

It was then when I went into epileptic seizures and died.

There is no afterlife. At least, there wasn’t any for me. I hung around in blackness and whiteness – they all seemed the same for a dead man. There are no colors, not even black nor white. The world of the dead is smudged, colorless, and, as you might have figured, lifeless.

But something happened… something strange happened.

I woke up in the morgue. I didn’t feel much pain – but I didn’t feel myself alive either. Cold and barefoot, I looked in the mirror, only to see parts of my skull cut open, and a tag nailed into my right temple. The paper read “Brain hemorrhage, followed by isolated explosions”. Hmmph.

I felt hungry.

hungry knows no looks

There was no food around. I remembered I put a snack bar in my jeans. I looked around the cabinets, and rifled through other people’s items. You’d be surprised what they keep in their jeans, them people.

I found a paper in my jeans with “Airway Bill” and a number written on it, as well as what appeared to be a phone number. I scratched my head – my exposed brain rather – and to my dismay half of my brain plopped on the ground.

Hungry, eat must I, thinks me. Foods be must here, not, know not I, speak must eat food. Look squishy brain floor. Not too squishy. Cut, open people, not fresh. Must fresh eat. Number on paper, call, must, deli? Fresh.

“Hello, DHL how might I help you?” answer food, end other line.
“Yes sir you can find me in …”

Walk. Long walk. Slow, numb legs. Hate. Slow legs, hate I. I miss squishy squishy. Was faster with squishy. Must eat.

DHL. Red sign. Nice. Big. Not squishy. Glow. Glowwwws. Hm.

Walk in. Person. Horror face. He point me, half squishy gone. Full squishy he has. Smell good. Smelly squishy.

must have squishy

“Braaaaaaaaains” squishy squishy.
“GRAAAAGH! HEELP! HEELP!” squishy squished.
munch munch munch
“Helloooooooooooooooooooooo,” squishy sez.
munch munch burp.
“Sir are you there?”


I snapped out. I was in the mall, my sister looking at my face and laughing. I realized I was talking to someone on the phone. The DHL guy.

“Yeah, I uh, sorry what did you say?”
“The shipment’s been damaged sir. What would you like us to do?”
“Just send me a damage report, screw the frame, if the photo is OK you can deliver it.”
“Will inform them sir and get back to you.”
“Ok thanks.”
“Welcome sir. And oh sir!”
“Looks like your shipment was not insured, so the max you can claim from DHL is 100 dollars.”

I was pronounced dead on arrival, on a warm Monday evening at roughly 7 PM…