He sat there coolly, cigarette smoke rising in lazy arcs around his head, as they rattled the door. Muttering to himself more than anything, he advised the devils to quit. Of course they couldn’t hear; not likely to listen either. He muttered anyway.
“Go away,” he suggested, spinning the wheel of his revolver.
Plucking the cigarette from his mouth, he threw it on the wads of newspaper stuffed into the wastebasket. Killing the light, he made his way toward the window. They were still at it, beating against the door. Leaping onto the fire escape, he left them to burn.
Tale Told 