I have watched a Zombie film or two. Indeed I have even read about them. As far as I’m aware they are not the authors. That’s an assumption based on one or two points. Zombies appear to be a little … dumb.

Not to mention dead

I think the jury is out. In film they are recently reincarnated folks. Reanimated corpses. Apparently the world of print is of the same opinion. Personally I like to think of them as the Disgruntled Dead. Formerly individuals that were miserable of character and dour of personality.

You know the kind. The ones that always have something to moan about. I base this little nugget on the fact that in films – they never seem to move without mumbling. I’m assuming that they’re attempting to verbalise some sort of complaint but have lost the ability to control their vocal chords.

Or maybe that’s more to do with the fact that said vocal chords are sensitive to a few days of death.

As far as I'm aware, they’re categorised as mythical. I’m not so sure that they are. Perhaps I come to this conclusion based upon the fact that I do indeed have a pet Dragon.

But I think it’s more to do with the possibility that my neighbour is one.

As promised, I have evidence. Not physical mind. Observational. And only observational because I refuse to get close enough to touch my neighbour. If I were braver. Or completely stupid – I may well have tangible evidence. Anyway – I’m neither so you’ll just have to take my word for it. And my word is set in stone.

Or at least on a word document.

Which is almost the same.

Therefore being dead means looking dead. I’ve seen the odd corpse and have a good idea of what a Zombie should look like. Cold and clammy, kinda greyish forward slash blue with a slight tinge of green going on.

My neighbour definitely looks cold. He’s always shaking. He has the colour about right. He’s definitely got a greenish hue him about whilst his predominant skin colour is grey. And his eyes are horribly ... horrible.

Like the eyes of a dead fish

Tick.

You’ve seen Michael Jacksons’ Killer video? That’s how he’s dressed. He wears a huge filthy cardigan. It contains several holes. His trousers have also seen better days. Don’t get me started on the shoes. And they’re not even a pair.

Plus whenever I see him from the back his attire has a huge slash from hem to collar. I know undertakers do this with the clothes of the newly deceased. And he smells – earthy.

Like he’s been buried at some point. Just like every self-respecting Zombie.

Tick.

My neighbour seems incapable of walking completely upright. He also walks almost sideways. He does a lot of lurching too. In fact he walks a bit like a drunken crab. And I know he can’t run because I once saw him try ... and he wasn’t very good at it.

He hit a parked car then hit the ground. Zombies are unco-ordinated. And so is my neighbour.

Tick.

He is undeniably creepy. He’s weird. Sinister looking. He’s certainly frightening to look at. Or be around. And meeting him on the stairwell always leaves me feeling disturbed. These days I carry a dessert fork in my hand when coming and going from my apartment. I’m not aware that sticking a fork in Zombies actually causes them harm or is in fact helpful in any way but I just feel a little comforted.

And – just in case he does scare me enough to make me feel that some fork sticking is called for … I doubt three prongs from a dessert fork are going to A) cause him too much pain B) cause me too much trouble and C) cause his demise just in case I am indeed mistaken as to his physical … well-being.

Tick.

There you go. I've covered the four main Zombie Criterion. Dead, shabby, shuffling and creepy. My neighbour easily assimilates all four Zombie Standards. As set down in the Book of Frog. Of course there is also the mumbling. Random wandering. And let’s not forget the lack of blinking.

However - it’s true that I’ve never seen him eat people. Nor have I noticed him hanging around the Cemitério do São João. A little loitering on the street corner now and then but that doesn’t constitute grave skulking. And there’s every potential that he’s Something Else Altogether.

But – I doubt it. I’m pretty sure my neighbour is a Zombie. One of the Walking Dead. Destined to walk the streets of … Lisbon … until ... until ... the Twelfth of Never? The Apocolypse?

Until it rains then.

NB – I’ve just been informed that my neighbour is a raving lunatic. Some kind of former mad Scientist. Genius is one step away from madness etcetera etcetera. Hence his disposition, look and general shabby appearance. I remain unconvinced. He’s dead. Definitely. No doubt. I stuck my dessert fork in his ass as he passed me on the stairwell last night.

It’s still there this morning.