She called him a god, and compared him to an angel.

He was no angel.

But he might have been a god once. Or maybe he would be a god later, in her future. Time ran in circles around him, and this wasn’t his first adventure in human form.

She knew, of course.

He got the feeling she could see right through him.

“What are you?”  She always asked the question in the middle of the night, after they’d shared physical pleasure. “Are you even real?”

“Didn’t what we did feel real?”

“Well,” she said. “There’s real and there’s real.”

“Is this real?” he asked, and tickled her. “Or this?” he asked and kissed her.

She giggled against his mouth.

He swallowed her laughter. Then he spit out her soul.

He was definitely no angel.

And he remembered now. He wasn’t a god.

He was the devil.