A quarter until midnight, the streets were busy. Waning sirens from speeding cars left crisps as their tires rolled on the damp road. It was a busy night. The drivers were slamming on their honks as the traffic started to get heavy.
My forehead was mottled with hints of sweat as if it were a leaf kissed by dew in the morning. My heart was calm—beat after another—each interval spaced equally. Air in through the nose and out through the mouth. I kept my breathing steady as I focused the arrowhead on my target.
With my left hand gripping the bow, my right arm’s pulled back along with the arrow and bow string. I released a steady stream of air and set my arrow free, rocketing toward a woman standing beside a mobile food cart. She was about to make a bite out of her corndog when the blade reached her heart. She lost grip of her snack.
In a split second, I grabbed another arrow from my quiver and shot it at a man holding his Labrador’s leash across the street. The dog ran free when it heard its owner’s side of the leash slap the floor. He lost grip of its handle.
Both of the targets were stunned for a couple of seconds. Their gazes were pulled toward each other—eyes piercing through each other’s souls. They drew themselves closer and closer until they were standing face-to-face. Just like that, my mission completed. I, Cupid, once again connected two souls meant for each other.
I soared over the whole city. I was hovering above a park where viable targets seemed to be having a picnic when I saw the perfect pair. There was meaning in all her giggles. The way she brushed her hair. The way she stared when he wasn’t looking. Every time he complimented her, her heart dropped. She enjoyed every second of his company and felt secured.
Without any doubt, I reached for an arrow and sent it to the woman. It left a whistling sound as it travelled in midair. I heard her flesh crunch as the blade of the arrow impaled her. It was a success—her action said it all.
I grabbed another arrow and sent it to the man. I aimed for his heart with all my might. The arrow flew gracefully, but when it was about to reach the heart, the tip of the arrowhead created a spark as if it hit a concrete wall and started to ignite.
The incident left me in a daze. It was the first time my arrows failed. There were neither hesitations nor miscalculations from the way I drew my arrow from my bow. I tried and tried until I ran out of arrows. It only gave the same result. The air reeked of burnt hair as the arrow’s ashes slowly spread.
Morning came, I was still puzzled. I picked up my quiver and filled it with my arrows. I flew back to the park and hoped that they too would be there. After an hour of waiting, they arrived with their friends. They were wearing athletic attires and brought with them a Frisbee disc. It all started with simple throws until they decided to play a
I had a brilliant plan in mind. The game started, and I gripped the bow tighter than I used to. I aimed for the man’s heart. With a bit of nervousness, I released the arrow. I heard his flesh split open as it gave way to the blade—it was a success. I grabbed another arrow and shot her. I crossed my fingers and yelled for all the gods’ names as the arrow drew in closer to the target.
Spark. Ignition. Ashes. The air smelled like burnt hair. It was a failure. Out of anger, I grabbed one arrow after another and repeatedly shot the targets. It filled the park with smoke and ashes. Why won’t you work? I asked myself.
I felt exhausted. I have decided to waste my arrows and put in mind that there is still another day next to this one. So I sent it to the man and waited for it to hit him.
It landed a hit. I reached for another arrow and aimed for the woman. It was a pretty carefree shot that I wasn’t able to assess what her next action’s going to be, but I was sure the arrow’s heading toward her. The more she ran, the closer it got.
They drew in closer to each other until they’re a couple of meters apart. She ran and ran until she stumbled upon a rock and fell. The arrow passed inches by her neck, cutting some strands of hair. Everyone huddled in to help her.
An impaling sound came out of nowhere. It was an apparent sound of a flesh being cut open. It was clear that the arrows didn’t disintegrate because there were no traces of burnt residues floating in midair. Someone was hit. Not just any someone. Whoever was hit is the man’s reconcilable pair.
Messy hair. Glasses. A polo shirt paired up with trousers. It was a man! The man’s suited match is another man!
My brain was still processing what happened when I felt my quiver shake. My right hand reached another couple of arrows and sent them flying to two women. Then I sensed another. And then another.
The whole thing happened too fast that it left me in a buffer. My mind couldn’t think clearly. I can feel every arrow that punctured a human’s flesh. I saw the moment they were freed from being semi-petrified. I witnessed how free they felt.
I was so overwhelmed by the sensation that I haven’t noticed I descended to the ground. Feeling every love, I was kneeling on the grass staring bluntly in the air. My eyes were teary and my heart was throbbing out of joy.
Each heart I touched showed me things. It was love as pure as anyone else in this world. Love so strong that it fought for its right to express and be happy. Love so perfect to each other that not even a god can flout it.
I realized a lot of things. But one thing will stay in my heart: my arrows don’t miss because I have proven to myself that falling in love never was a mistake.