This post is only available in Latvian.

This post is only available in Latvian.

Inspired by going to bed listening to Neil Gaiman read his “The Day The Saucers Came” and waking up to find Spīgana’s “Mist is my favorite season” photo post (in Latvian).

On the day the zombies came, you were not afraid
Geeks are not afraid of zombies
Geeks are ready for the apocalypse
Like for nothing else

You were not afraid because zombies want flesh
Or zombies want brains, or both
And you thought, as you so often did,
That you didn’t have much of either

On the day the zombies came, you were at a moor
Taking photos of the trees, the bushes and the sky
As it tried desperately and in vain
To hide its naked beauty in the mist

You were not afraid because there was beauty here
To die in this place, at this moment
Would be like getting painted away
Immortalized in a vision of a better world

On the day the zombies came, you checked the news
It said the zombies did not eat flesh, or brains
They only ate things that captured light
Solar batteries and photo cameras

On the day the zombies came, you were very much afraid

It wasn’t, by itself, an overly remarkable occurence — waking up groggy and vague on the details of yesterday, at the end of a trail of passionately scattered pieces of clothing and underwear. I was, however, somewhat startled to discover that this time, the blood-soaked ones were my own.

Tulkojums latviski: šeit.

We had been colleagues for years, working together on the same project for the last several months. And there was not a single thing unusual or different about her or anything else that day, or that moment when I turned to ask a question and the world stuttered, jumped and settled with finality in a new and unsettling pattern, like a driving student’s first successful manual gear shift. The change was as sudden as it felt gradual, settling on me sluggishly but no less painfully, like the world’s slowest gut punch from the world’s strongest man made entirely out of heavy pillows and wet balls of yarn.

I was instantly, excrutiatingly and irrevocably in love with her.

To this day I can’t name a single other thing that had ever fazed me so violently and utterly. I think being in an open plan office floor with over 50 other employees was the only thing that, by the tiniest margin, kept me from making an utter fool of myself right then and there. Which, all things considered, was probably for the best. Her husband is infamous for his lack of a sense of humor.

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