The Plastic Pusher

The Plastic Pusher

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación vie, abr 22, 2016
It's been a year since the global ban on plastic bags. The only people who still have them are hoarders, upcyclers, clean freaks and seniors. The world is a different place. Plastic bags are frowned upon but many folks can't stomach the rising costs of reusable tote bags and can't seem to find them since the black market emerged. This spells opportunity for me. I'm Ari. You can call me The Plastic Pusher. Take my card. You'll be glad you did. ****************************************** WARNING: This story has F words and stuff. So if you don't like F words. Probably don't read. If you like F words, then read on my friend. Read on.
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There's not a lot that can freak me out in this world. Only large animals with sharp claws, too many people touching me, bullies, hives, horror movies, sitting underneath fans or lights or anything that dangles from a ceiling, glass or wooden bridges, my mother, mosquitoes, public situations, taking a shower with nobody in the house, taking a shower with too many people in the house and crocks. Oh, and zombies. Zombies is definitely on that list. It's almost a shame too, that I have to race through a city packed full of them to find my missing family. Packed full of zombies, by the way, not crocks. (Although I don't know which situation is worse.) Now I have to not only keep my feeble body alive, but also protect (or be protected by) my two best friends in the entire world as we all try to survive in a city packed with the Dead.

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