I wrote this story a while ago and never knew what to do with it. It is short and sweet and full of misguided attempts at love.
So, what better place to showcase some work than right here on my blog.
Through persistence and hard work, Richard and Steve had captured Cupid.
They kept him tied up in Steve’s attic; mouth taped shut and wings clipped.
They took his bow and his arrows and practiced archery for days.
Richard and Steve never really had much luck with the ladies, they never seemed to know what to say or how to act around them. Using Cupid’s arrows seemed a simpler way to find love.
Neither of them was very good with a bow, but Steve was the better archer so the first time they decided to try Cupid’s arrows (flimsy things, with tips that were soft like cotton candy) Steve was to take the shot. Richard was happy with the arrangement as this meant that the first girl they hunted would be his. He had been feeling lonely lately. Things might have turned out differently if Richard had realized that the hardest part of all of this, of love itself, was working up the courage to introduce yourself. Everything else either came naturally or not at all.
There was a park near Steve’s house, now in full bloom and ripe with the scent of spring. The fairer sex would often be found there, jogging or sitting in the shade of a large tree reading a book or a magazine. It was there they decided to try out the arrows for the first time. Richard saw a girl, a pretty one, but not beautiful enough to make him nervous and lose his words. He walked up to her, stealing glances to the side to see where? Steve was positioning himself. Steve crouched in a bush and waved Richard on.
Richard walked up to the girl and looked alternately between her and his shoes.
“He.. hello?” he finally said.
“Oh, hello.” She had brown eyes and an easy smile. She put her hand up to her eyes to shield them from the afternoon sun.
Richard stalled, then saw her book and his words found his mouth.
“I see you are reading Shakespeare. I remember reading him in school. Never really got why people think he is so great.” Richard thought his voice sounded strange, and his palms were sweaty.
“Yes, I’m reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream. It’s funny, sort of. I’m reading it for a class I’m taking.”
She moved her hand and looked down at the book. Richard saw that he had made a mistake; she was not just pretty. She was beautiful.
“Wha.. what sort of class?”
“It’s on literature, the teacher says that everything goes back to Shakespeare. We had to choose at least one play to really learn.”
Richard became nervous, couldn’t think of the next thing to say and scratched his ear, the signal for Steve to fire. There was a soft, distant twang, and then a floating look to her eyes. The smell of cotton candy hung in the air for a moment.
The girl smiled at Richard, like she was meeting an old friend.
“Sit down,” she said, and made space on the blanket. Richard sat, and in the distance he saw Steve peeking out from a bush, bow in hand.
“Let me read to you, quickly, because my husband will be here soon and he can’t know about us.” She opened the book and started reading:
“I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again:
Mine ear is much enamoured of thy note;
So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape…”
Richard looked around. Husband? He should have asked her, he didn’t like this at all. He shot a look at Steve who was still peering out of the bushes to see how things were going. She kept reading that Shakespearean stuff and Richard was getting worried.
He didn’t realize it, but while thinking whether he should run away or take her along with him he scratched his ear again. A moment later there was a soft distant twang.
A flash, and Richard thought something stung him in the chest, then the soft smell of cotton candy. He looked up and saw a beautiful man looking at him from the bushes, holding a bow. Richard stood up and strode towards him, leaving the woman reading the drivel behind.
As he approached he heard that Steve was talking.
“What are you doing? It seemed to be working, she was readin’ to you and all.”
Steve looked at his friend, who didn’t seem to have a care in the world.
„Richard, what are you doing so close?”
Richard didn’t really hear Steve’s question, but instead reached behind him, plucked an arrow from the quiver and stabbed him in the chest. For a moment here was the soft smell of cotton candy, followed by an intimate lover’s kiss.
Thoughts? Comments? Critique?