I was ready to leave the bodega after Eric tried his mark for the third time. The 666 tat was pulsating light red. No reason he couldn’t get his smokes, but the register kept beeping.
“This ain’t working man. Let’s go.”
The monkey demon grabbed Eric’s arm and scanned it again. Still with the beeping. The demon screeched and shrugged his shoulders.
“Show him another ID. Maybe he can just look it up.”
Eric fished around until he found his old Ohio ID and handed it to the demon.
Somehow, I thought the apocalypse would be better managed than this.
Jeff Kennedy is a 2025 Pushcart nominee and past Thurber House and Erma Bombeck essay contest winner. Jeff’s short form writing has appeared in publications such as Maudlin House, Everscribe Magazine, Flash Fiction Magazine, and Bright Flash Literary Review. Read his recent work at www.justanotherdamnblog.com and follow him on Bluesky @jkennedy60.bsky.social
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