Genre Fiction. Page - 318
George Meredith, OM (12 February 1828 – 18 May 1909) was an English novelist and poet of the Victorian era.Meredith was born in Portsmouth, England, a son and grandson of naval outfitters.[1] His mother died when he was five. At the age of 14 he was sent to a Moravian School in Neuwied, Germany, where he remained for two years. He read law and was articled as a solicitor, but abandoned that profession for journalism and poetry. He collaborated with Edward Gryffydh Peacock, son of Thomas Love Peacock in publishing a privately circulated literary magazine, the Monthly Observer.[2] He married Edward Peacock's widowed sister Mary Ellen Nicolls in 1849 when he was twenty-one years old and she was twenty-eight.[1]
I can feel the virus eating away at my body and know if I don’t do this now, then I’ll become one of them. I cough up blood and grimace when I notice it’s black. I look towards the door as it crashes open and about five or more no eyed dead freaks come at me running. These ones seem to be able to move faster than the others but can’t stop without crashing. As they get closer I see torn flesh where their eyes should be.