The vampire stood dead still, just short of his old flame’s threshold.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he asked, glancing anxiously at the false dawn.
“No,” she said.
She didn’t wait to see him disintegrate on her doorstep, but went to the utility closet to get a broom.
John H. Dromey has a story in the anthology Chilling Horror Short Stories (Flame Tree Publishing, 2015).