Bathroom Monologue: Contagious Condition

"One bite. One scratch. Some have contracted the disease just by breathing in the same room. A cultural culture. Whether it's body fluids or airborne, transformation takes hold within seconds. The hunger claims you at least three times a day, and the thirst is even more frequent. The infected move in packs, congregating to feed, amongst other things. One assumes they will hunt together when necessary, though at this stage in the world, food is so plentiful that they seldom have to fight for it. You can recognize them by their listless walk, the range of fatigues and concerns in their eyes, and their inclination towards any sort of gadget. Place an iPhone in the middle of the sidewalk and take cover; in less than an hour one of them will wander off with it. They will shamble around poking it like mindless zombies. They are not zombies, though. The life expectancy is longer, with many making it to ninety years. Also unlike zombies they will spend most of those years keenly nervous over things that will shorten their lives. Nothing they do will actually save them. The human condition is one hundred percent terminal."