The Demon that Demanded a Road

Oh, the grass! Oh, thousands of blades, rusty nails, soft as shag carpet, sharp as knives! Thick as thieves! Oh, the trees, their arms reaching for heaven, their hands in prayer. Oh, the energy from the great Sol! The all-seeing eye!

Cleaving this world: a hulking beast, shrieking his name. "Mayor!" it cried, "Mr. Nazeer! I really have to speak with you!" Nazeer felt its eyes on him. Looking through him. Seeing his insides, manipulating his viscera with the demonic glare. Nazeer writhed. He couldn't bear to look at it.

"What?" he called. Was it too loud or too soft? He called, "What?" again. The demon still advanced.

"Mr. Nazeer, you know I'm not a man to mince words," the demon began. What diplomacy! Yes, yes, demons are frightfully to-the-point. Why does this demon torture me so? I demand foreplay! "The trucks coming up and down Main Street are shaking up such an awful ruckus. It's a real disturbance. One of these days someone is going to get hit. What we need -- "

Nazeer could take no more. "Out with it, and begone!" The demon's eyes followed him here, there. Nazeer tried to wander but to no avail.

"What we need is a ring road. Around Augustine, not through it, see?"

At 'Augustine,' Nazeer reeled. Gravity distorted itself; Nazeer toppled. He felt the grass on his hands, on the side of his face. The sky crushed down upon his side. A voice came through the haze of shapes and sounds around him: "Mayor, are you alright?" He could not locate it at first. Where is this noise? What has become of this world? But the black form of what Nazeer could only assume to be the demon floated, like a dark cloud, overtop of him, and Nazeer's world came crashing back: sharply-defined shapes -- trees, grass, a bench -- and a demon he could not lay eyes upon.

"Yes, whatever you want!" Nazeer cried. "Just leave me! Please, go!"

The shadow withdrew. A cold sweat broke out all over Nazeer's body. His fingers convulsed. His nightmares had found him at last. And they demanded a road.