It was my day to drive. Nature provided a misty rain for our 50-mile commute. I didn’t focus on Neilsen until I had backed the car to the bottom of his driveway.
I slammed the brake. “What the hell is that?”
Neilsen turned toward me. He was wearing a hard-shell, full-face mask. Black, with big white letters across the forehead: “NOT TODAY, SATAN.”
“I lost a bet,” he said.
“I’ll say. You can’t teach in that.”
“I have a plan to work it into my lecture.”
“You’ll be fired.”
“There are loopholes,” I said.
And I was right.
I wrote this story in response to the Story-a-Day Challenge (storyaday.org). The prompt required having a character wear the mask described. Once again, I chose to write a drabble, a story of exactly 100 words.