Hubert cruised the deserted streets. He should have given up, but he’d promised himself just one more.
In the pre-dawn light he spotted her. She looked needy – lightly clad for the chilly morning, and alone. He slowed to a stop, spoke friendly words.
She was in. He took off, wasting no time. His mirror showed her face, tired, and anxious. He felt a stab of terrible hunger and knew it would soon be satisfied.
This was it – Hubert pulled over. The house was isolated, neglected, its gate askew, its garden overgrown.
“That’s $25, Miss.”
Done. Now, home for breakfast.
This is for Friday Fictioneers. Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting the weekly flash fiction challenge, and thanks to David Stewart for this week’s prompt.