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.”

“I’m tenured.”

“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.