I Dream of Zombies


And I want to know if anyone else does.

We all dream. I know this, and most everyone does. The only thing is that most of us don’t remember our dreams. I usually don’t…unless they’re about zombies. Now, not all of my zombie dreams are scary in the traditional sense. Zombies are always scary, to me, but my dreams tend to have me fighting off zombies and rescuing damsels in distress and other such nonsense. I almost always lead a resistance of some description, and then I wake up never finding out if I succeeded.

I suspect that these dreams explain why I find zombie movies both thrilling and terrifying (with exception to a handful of zombie movies that are so terrible they’re not even funny). Still, it’s a tad disconcerting to find yourself afflicted with inmortusomnia (that’s my fancy made up medical term for dreaming about the undead).

Maybe I’m not the only one. Anyone else dream of zombies?

About the Author:

Shaun Duke is an aspiring writer, a reviewer, and an academic. He is currently an Assistant Professor of Digital Rhetoric and Writing at Bemidji State University. He received his PhD in English from the University of Florida and studies science fiction, postcolonialism, digital fan cultures, and digital rhetoric.

4 thoughts on “I Dream of Zombies

  1. Yeah, I dream of zombies all the time too. (I remember a lot of my dreams, and a lot of them are not about zombies.) I started remembering a lot of zombie dreams before a recent rennaisance of my interest in zombie films/stories, so it isn't entirely the result of too much exposure.

    But anyway, it's not just you.

  2. And here I was thinking that I was unique. Do you think that my frequency of zombie dreams are so obviously connected to my love of the film subgenre? I always thought dreams were more…obscure or abstract.

  3. I have never had a dream about zombies but I had one about what I can only describe as a succubus and and incubus, but it was not about saving damsels or anything of that nature.

    I was riding in the passenger side of my mother's minivan as my father slept in the back seat and my mother drove. We crested a hill and there was a truck carrying a huge camper behind it. A very, VERY attractive blond was trying to flag us down. I am talking about that sort of fake Hollywood teen show attractive that only appears with 6 hours of make-up and an airbrush.

    Standing a little behind her as we started to pass her on the left was a young man who obviously put a lot of effort into lifting weights and working on a day-glow tan. My mother starts to pull over, but I sense something wrong, almost as if there is murder in his eyes. I tell her, "Drive, just go." My mother starts to accelerate away and the girl starts to scream at us and the man rips off the "STOP" part of a stop sign and just launches it at us. That's right, he RIPPED APART A ROAD SIGN AND THREW IT.

    By this time we are a good 300 yards away but the sign is gaining. I tell my mother to swerve to the left and I see the thing fly towards the concrete like a meteor to the Earth. It makes an ungodly sound as it rips apart the cement of the road.

    Then I woke up…

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