I watched an episode of “The Walking Dead” a couple weeks ago at the suggestion of a friend. “The Walking Dead” is a story centered on a handful of humans trying to survive in a world that has succumb to a disease that turns people into zombies. It’s graphic. It’s gory. And, strangely for me, it was very sad. Half of me was horrified of the zombies. Their decayed bodies, their thirst for living flesh, their pack mentality. The fear that once you are bit, you will become one of them. Yet there was a part of me that felt …
