More practice in micro fiction.
Howard knew the devil was on the roof. Its breath fogged the windshield. Howard saw the red cross. He was tired. The demon swept his tail through the window, rubbing Howard’s shoulders.
Stay…awake…The quiet voice inside pleaded. Howard didn’t hear it. His eyes closed.
He dreamed briefly of his childhood, of his brother now dead and his mother in the hospital. She was to die tonight. Howard rolled along the pavement. The demon went on.
Didn’t miss you by much mama, Howard thought. He closed his eyes.
“Another one bites the dust.”
“Shut up. Call it.”
“ 7:30 PM”