8 o'clock? Really? Well then this is what happens when you wake me up.
The repetitive hammering pierced through my single pane windows and sent tremors into my ribcage. This couldn't be an earthquake. Earthquakes aren't powered by a humming generator and mexican foreman yelling commands. They don't make pillow cases that go deep enough into ears to stop this. Suddenly the noise stops prompted by the most gruesome scream one could gargle. Then silence. My eyes shift back and forth wondering if it is safe to go to sleep or how much time I should spend thinking about what could have caused this deafness in my favor. Some unrecognizable mutter is exchanged. Then the beast fires back up and the concrete resumes it's demise. At this point I have to believe that city workers witnessed an accident with an easy solution provided by the fresh hole before them. The perfect concrete coffin. After all, the worker had a track record of missing days. As far as they are concerened, this was just another day he didn't clock in. In preparation for his return, I have started to fortify my home. Slaying a jackhammer carrying zombie will require a great deal of creativity.
Updates as warranted.
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