The dog scrambled to his feet with a bark, walking to the edge of the porch and sniffing the cool air, just in case.
"Do you see it?" Remy asked, feeling the darkness calling to him.
Wo, "Marlowe grumbled, turning back to him, his thick black tail starting to wag nervously.
Remy smiled, placing both feet on the floor and leaning forward in the chair, hands open to Marlowe.
Marlowe came to him happily, eating up the affection.
"It must've been nothing," he told the dog, allowing the animal to lick his face.
But Remy knew it was there, waiting to take him away.
A diversion from the heartache.
A distraction found in the affairs of angels.