"Mom, hurry up and eat your porridge before it gets cold. Dad, you better hurry up and get to work. You don't want them to fire you. You've been missing a lot of days lately," the boy chatted to his parents.
They never responded to anything he said. That was fine, they were never a talkative family. He had grown accustomed to the stench of the home over the last few months. The neighbors would ask about it, but he would shoo them away. It was none of their concern about how the family was doing. The porridge was already cold. There had been no gas or electricity in the home for several months.
"So the woman says Llama, not momma. Oh, dear, you seem to have lost your head mother," the young man giggled at his own joke.
The woman's long decayed skull bounced as it fell from her shoulders and rolled across the kitchen floor. The boy grabbed some duct tape from the garage and taped it back to what remained of her neck. He cleared the table like the good son he had been when they were alive. He moved the bodies to the living room for TV time.
"Seems like you'll be missing work again today father," he said clicking the remote.
Nothing happened, still he laughed remembering all of the old things they would watch. It would be a good afternoon for them. The perfect happy family spending a day off watching movies. There could be nothing better in the world.
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