His body ached today, but he wasn’t sure why. He’d slept just fine as far as he knew, not a kink or a pain to be had upon waking. In fact, he hadn’t felt a single ache until just a few minutes ago. It felt as though he’d been running all day, had swallowed a mouthful of sand, and rammed his knees into a cement block simultaneously. The image made him chuckle as he reached for the brown bottle of suds where it was slowly warming on the corner of the barbecue, shedding moisture as the heat of the grill continued to rise. Plucking the bottle off the metal surface he frowned slightly at the lack of a puddle that should have been gathering around the base. There was a bit of moisture, but not much.
In hand the bottle was still pleasantly cold, but the droplets of condensation he’d seen were gone.
“What the hell?”
“Hey old man!” called his wife, grinning as she came up to wrap her arms around him, “What’s the ETA on those dogs stud?”
He decided to put the strangeness of the moment aside as he grabbed a set of tongs hanging from the front of the grill, “So I’m an old man and a stud, huh? Didn’t know I could be both.”
“Of course,” his wife said as she inhaled his scent, placing her cheek against his back and wrapping her arms around his belly, “You’re my studly old man that knows how to cook and clean. That’s why I keep you around after all.”
“I thought there was another reason,” he mused, grinning as one of her hands went a bit lower, slipping past his belt as she grunted pleasingly against his back.
“Nope,” she said suddenly, laughing as she continued, “The pool boy takes care of that on the weekends.”
“Oh you’ve got jokes today too huh?”
Her answering laugh should have made him smile, but dark, shrieking sound he heard instead made him turn around-
-to see that nothing was there. No wife, no demon, no…wait. Demon? What was going on?
(to be continued)