Lucifer's mission impossible

a short story

THE ROOM WAS white, a pale-gray, color of a gull’s breast and young feathers, seamless, without windows or doors.

A voice entered. It droned. “Lucifer.”

Its sound was realistic and yet artificial, tuned, a little too perfect and vaguely effeminate though not lisping.

“Lucifer.”

He didn’t rub his eyes but in the moment it was like waking, like he was new in …