I bought shoes for the first time in 15 years.

The shoes are absurdly sturdy, basically indestructible boots that look like matte-black ski shoes designed by Batman’s tailor. Strangely enough, they go perfectly with a suit, like I’m ready for both a wedding and an avalanche.

My old ones had evolved into fossils, probably eligible for a museum exhibit. If love is a battlefield, I’ve been fighting barefoot, bleeding, and hopeless. With these new shoes, I thought maybe I could finally walk toward romance like a normal person.

But the truth is… I’m so unpopular that romance with humans is impossible. So please, just send a young zombie woman to my room. At least the undead won’t ghost me, they already are ghosts.