The day began as normal for Howard. His alarm woke him at 6:30 AM sharp, at which point he hit the snooze button and went back to sleep.

  His alarm awoke him again at 7:00, only for Howard to snooze it yet again. He was having a great dream that involved selling cars to dragons.

  Howard didn't have to worry about disturbing anyone else with his constant alarms, as he lived alone in a small studio apartment. He had no pets due to being allergic to most types of furs. At one point, Howard was joined in his apartment by James, a goldfish. They spent a few happy years together until James' death. After James had died, Howard decided not to replace him.

  The alarm awoke Howard once again at 7:30, this time Howard turned off the alarm, rolled over, and fell back asleep.

  Half an hour later, Howard was finally awoken by a rush of panic as he realized he was dangerously close to being late for work.

  He quickly showered and dressed, before making his only concession to breakfast, in the form of some toast, before finally rushing out the door. As usual, if Howard did not move quickly, he would miss his bus.

  While awaiting the bus, it had become part of his daily ritual to ponder the irony of taking the bus to work, as he was a used car salesman.

  He hadn't always been a used car salesman. He had gone to college, but he had found that college life was not for him. So, despite the protests of his parents, he dropped out. He intended for it to be a temporary pause, but after getting a job at Donovan's Premium Cars, Howard had not gone back.

  Mr. Donovan was a good boss, all things considered. Mr. Domonic Donovan tended towards crass, which more often than not tended to drive away customers, but he took care of his people. The dealership paid decently, especially in commission, and he had a full package of health care.

  What more could a man ask for?

  Howard often found himself wondering just that on the long monotonous bus ride to the dealership.

  Howard arrived at the dealership to the usual smells of diesel fuel and coffee. Diesel from the bus and coffee from the dealership. Mr. Donovan always liked a fresh pot of coffee on the go, no matter the time of day, which was unfortunate as he tended to burn it. Mr Donovan had bought a fancy coffee machine, but neglected to learn how to use it, thus resulting in acidic burnt coffee, much to Howard’s chagrin.

  Howard entered the dealership to the greeting of Mr. Donnovan and his son Derrick. Howard grabbed some coffee before being waved over by Mr. Donnovan.

  “Alright,” Mr. Donnovan said turning towards Howard, This would be the only greeting Howard got from the man, Just like every other day.

  “ Here's the deal for today, Howard, your first appointment is with Mrs. Ethel Johnson, she is looking at the Toyota Corolla but I want you to talk her into the PT cruiser we have had sitting on the lot for a while.”

  Before Howard could respond Mr. Donnovan turned to his son.

  “ Rick You've got the young Trenton Sinclair the Third. He's young and he's got lots of easy cash, I want you to up-sell him either the Miata or the Challenger. When I say upsell him, I mean upsell him. This kid is a nincompoop. He barely knows how to tie his shoes let alone the price of a car.”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “You got it pops,” Derrick responded as Mr. Donnovan began walking to his office.

  Howard quickly walked to catch up with Mr. Donovan.

  “Hold on boss, why the PT? We have a perfectly good Corolla that we can upcharge her for and it's not a lemon. She’s an old lady boss, we can turn a profit without completely screwing her over.”

  Mr. Donovan gave Howard an exasperated look before saying tiredly “ Howard we have been over this before. It's not about screwing over the old lady, it's about inventory turnover rate. It costs money to have cars on the lot.”

  “I know boss, but an old lady?”

  “Just sell the car, Howard.” Mr. Donnovan sighed before closing the door to his office.

  The rest of the morning was fairly uneventful for Howard. He took some calls, mostly misdials or the occasional genuine customer. The calls and the burnt coffee took up the time until his first appointment of the day, Mrs. Johnson. The elderly lady hobbled into the front door with as much vigor as her old bones would allow.

  “Good morning Howard, Dominic burned the coffee again.” she began without preamble in her sweet little old lady voice.

  Mrs. Johnson continued before Howard could respond, apparently taking Howard's consigned look as confirmation.

  “Come on then Howard, show me the clunker that Domonic wants to pawn off on me. He thinks I'm too old to tell the difference between quality and a lemon, hmph." She continued shooting a significant look across the room at Mr. Donovan.

  Howard led Mrs. Johnson outside to the lot. Howard looked back towards the office before leaning over to whisper to Mrs. Johnson.

  “You know we don't have to look at the Cruiser, I can just tell Mr.Donovan that we looked and you didn't like it.”

  “No, no Howard, you're such a nice boy. If Mr. Donovan wants you to show me the clunker, we will look at the clunker first. I don't want you to risk your job for me deary. What's the worst that can happen?”

  “Ok, Mrs. Johnson if you're sure,” Howard said, leading the old woman over to the PT cruiser that had been on the lot for a while.

  Howard had not had to deal with the car before as for the most part people looking for cars online avoided it like the plague for good reason. The Cruiser was a Hot Pink convertible that still had traces of some sort of fake eyelashes like one of those pyramid scheme mobiles. Not only was the car ugly as sin but generally not a great car. Normally dealerships would repaint a car that heinous, but Mr. Donnovan is a big believer in not doing anything beyond the minimum to cut into the profit margin.

  Mrs. Johnson's eyes widened at the sight and muttered something like “No wonder they can't sell this piece of shit”

  Howard pretended not to hear as they got into the cruiser. On top of the ugliness of the car, the interior was uncomfortable and slow to accelerate... Howard found himself sinking down in the seat at red lights to avoid the stares of other commuters.

  About seven minutes into the drive Mrs. Johnson leaned over to Howard “ I think I've had about enough of this car dear. Do you know anywhere nice we can park for the rest of the test drive?”

  “ I think we are fairly close to an old railway station. If we are lucky we can watch Big Bess leave the station.”

  Big Bess was the town's only steam engine left. Kept in working condition by some hobbyists. It was a big tourist draw for the town not just to see the train but to ride it. The train had been out of commission for the past few weeks due to an incident with the brakes but it was supposed to start running again that day.

  Mrs. Johnson Turned off the main road into Caboose Park navigating towards the main attraction of the park. As they turned into the park Howard got a sinking sensation in his stomach like a premonition of terrible things to come. Howard dismissed this feeling as putting it down to terrible coffee and lack of a filling breakfast.

  It was at this point that the car started to wheeze and pop... Mrs. Johnson looked over at Howard for an explanation but Howard had his eyes closed and was breathing deeply. Howard's head was swimming and he had an inexplicable ringing in his ears that sounded like far-away chanting.

  As the PT cruiser began crossing railroad tracks that intersected with the road it gave a final wheeze as it came to a standstill in the middle of the tracks. Mrs. Johnson turned the key in the ignition in an attempt to revive the car, but it was no use. Howard was at that moment writhing as if in pain and muttering nonsense words under his breath. Mrs. Johnson shook Howard with increasing intensity as she felt a rumble through the car. Finally, she slapped Howard as a distant high-pitched whistle confirmed her fears.

  “ If I'm going to die it's not going to be in this piece of crap,” Mrs. Johnson said as she quickly scrambled out of the car and over the passenger side.

  As the rumble and whistle grew increasingly close Mrs. Johnson opened the passenger door and unbuckled Howard. She realized quickly that she would be unable to lift the semi-unconscious man opting instead to drag him. The train seemed to be picking up speed as the rumbling seemed to grow. A high-pitched screeching pierced the air as the conductors finally noticed the car stopped on the track and attempted to break.

  Mrs. Johnson looked up from her ineffective attempts to drag Howard, at the sound of screeching brakes. With one final pull, Mrs. Johnson tugged at Howard only to lose her grip and slip off the tracks herself.