Karma of Cupid

Ages come and go, ceaselessly without fail,
History and prophecy the lives of mankind's tales.
And lo another story starts to flow
As across the land the wind doth blow...

Meh, the wind. The West Wind was always such a showoff. Most of the winds on this planet aren’t even His direct creation anyways. But regardless of where they came from, this particular wind just happened to be from that overrated minor meteorological deity, and he’s trying to be a flirt. He tries to slide his icy fingers seductively around the necks of busy men who walk, ever so briskly, in their designer cashmere and wool. He caresses every exposed leg of women as their strides tease… each step a wink, wink, wink, beckoning and inviting with flashes of flesh. He playfully tosses up leaves and dances high above the streetlamps like children throwing back their heads and laughing with pure joy. But he can’t hold a torch to me.




I’ve gone by a lot of names over the years. Eros, Amor, Desire, Love, Passion… But you’d probably know me best by that ridiculous name they gave me a few thousand years ago: Cupid. And before you ask, no, I’m not some naked baby with wings holding a bow and arrow. I’m actually quite normal looking; you’d probably not peg me for any sort of mythical god at all. But yeah, I make people fall in love. Or rather, I put them in the position to fall in love. If there’s one thing I’ve learned during my time here on Earth, it’s that you can’t make these infernal humans do anything. They’re worse than sheep. Seriously, I’d know. Oh, and you know how I said I was normal looking? Well, I guess that’s not quite true.

Women love me. I mean, really love me. See that group of women over there? Yeah, them, at the coffee stand on the corner. Watch this. All I have to do is walk by. And watch, I’ll even hide my face behind this newspaper.

And it’s true; they can’t help but look. Every misting eye, every quivering lip, every nervous rubbing of hands, every stretching of neck… each action screams their every thought. This man walking by is in every way so… so… perfect. His coat seems to simultaneously hide and accentuate the magnificent physique unseen underneath. The red of his tie pokes through just so… burning with the passion of a thousand flames. His coat opens, and the bespoke black suit underneath speaks of impeccable taste. A glimpse of his shoes is an invitation to warm summer nights spent drinking wine by candlelight on the Italian Riviera. His BELT…

See what I mean? They LOVE me. It’s like that wherever I go. But I can’t help but encourage them a little bit. Hold the newspaper for a second, will you? Maybe a little smile as I walk past…

Ladies.

And see? Look over my shoulder. They’re staring right? One of them fainted? She’ll be alright, don’t worry. Her friends are already picking her up by now, aren’t they? Happens all the time. Let’s just keep walking.

You might be wondering what I’m doing here, if my entire existence is just a hedonistic hunt for hips and hearts. Well, you couldn’t be further from the truth. You see, the fact is that my Love, my Reason for Being, my One and Only, my Happily Ever After is out there, and it’s some cruel joke of the Fates that I’m still looking for her.

Back home, my Mom is the most beautiful being – person, goddess, whatever – on that silly mountain we gods hang out on. Word had it though that she rejected the head honcho himself, and ol’ thunderbolt didn’t take too kindly to not getting his way. He put a curse on my Mom saying that one of her kids would be doomed to live a life linked with lost love. Great. Guess who that turned out to be? I was born with some, well, powers of persuasion of a certain amorous type, and soon after reaching adulthood was banished here to Earth. Just before I was kicked off the mountain, big Z pulled me aside, made a cloud come over, and formed it into the face of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I can still hear the words he spoke to me next…

Q, YOU’RE A GOOD KID, AND I HATE TO DO THIS TO YOU, BUT A CURSE IS A CURSE. YOU CAN’T COME UNTIL YOU FIND HER. SHE’S HUMAN, BY THE WAY, SO YOU WON’T HAVE LONG TO MEET AND WOO HER. OH, HER NAME IS… WELL HER NAME DOESN’T MATTER, YOU’LL KNOW HER – SHE’S A PART OF YOUR SOUL.

And with a swift godly kick, I was sent tumbling down our Olympic mountain to land here on Earth.

Some people back home have hypothesized that if I make enough people fall in love I’ll get a chance to come home – some sort of Deistic Duty thing. But I don’t think it’s that simple. You see; even though I’ve had a million women throw themselves at me, offer me their spirits, their skirts, their skin… I feel nothing. I know my Soul is out there, and I’m waiting for her. I can sense her out there; maybe not even born yet, maybe living next door to me. Who knows. Maybe she’s waiting for me. At least, I know I’m waiting for her. For my Soul.

Ah, here we go. My humble place of work. Watch your step. Yeah, sign in at the desk. It’s okay, she’s with me. Oh, hold that elevator will you! 29th floor please. What? Oh yeah, I thought I told you already that I work for Young Singles Monthly. I’m a writer. Advice column. On Love, of course! Well, what if they’re right? What if I get to go back home after helping a few thousand people fall in love? Even though I know I’ve got to wait for my Soul, it can’t hurt to cover all my mythical bases, and what better way to reach the masses than the number one read magazine amongst men AND women 18 to 25 years old?

His desk is the perfect storm of comfortable clutter and orderly organization. Stacks of manuscripts cover the surface, written by hand with a flowing script. A hundred photos of picturesque travel destinations cover the walls, each one eerily empty of people. Everything is either high tech or designer – his flat screen monitor seems just a bit bigger and thinner than anyone else’s, and his chair looks like a concept out of next decades DWR catalog. Everyone looks up and smiles as he walks by… Men with a touch of admiration in their eyes, and women with a quite obvious lingering stare that travels up… and down… him as he passes. And he knows it. He gives me a wink as if to say, “I told you so” as he pulls a chair for me opposite his desk, hangs his coat on a rack that was surely once an exhibit piece at some MOMA somewhere, and settles into his chair.

I’m so glad the Times has taken an interest in my story. But before we continue, I need something of you. Put down that pad. I need to know. Look at me; look me in the eyes. Do you believe me? Do you believe I’m Cupid?

It’s hard to stare into those eyes. They’re equal parts fire and ice; passion and fury, hope and hatred. My heart stops… my breath catches… my life waits for his to move forward. He may be no god, but he’s definitely… different.

Ahhh see. You don’t do you? Well, I’m not surprised. You humans have such a difficult time believing anything supernatural even exists. You’re all so good at explaining things away. You’ll hold onto the smallest grains of impossible hope; you’ll throw millions of dollars away at the Lottery with a 10 billion to one chance at winning; you’ll obsess over the smallest look a possible love interest might have sent your way; you’ll buy drink after drink after drink for women in the hopes that they’ll fall madly in love with you; but when it comes to believing in the supernatural – which let me tell you, is much more likely than any of those other things – you become the universe’s greatest cynic. But maybe you’ll change your mind soon.

So I know you’re dying to see my writing. Don’t worry; you’ll get what you need soon enough. In fact, here’s a good one for you to start with.

His fingers caress the different piles of manuscripts on his desk, until finally they settle on a particularly high stack. He gently slides his hand down, down, down, resting halfway down the pile. He closes his eyes, and the faintest smile crosses his lips as he pulls out a single sheet covered in his flowing script. He hands it to me, and the light in his eyes is equal parts pride, hope, and adventure. I look down and start to read…

How to Achieve the (Seemingly) Impossible

“It’s no secret that almost every young male’s fantasy is incredibly difficult to achieve. It’s a gigantically daunting feat, and I know that you think only a select few can pull it off. We are of course talking about landing two women at once…”

What? Don’t give me that look. This is Young Singles Monthly, not the Homebodies of America. The articles might be a little, what, racy, but it’s what’s on the mind of young people these days. And I’m just trying to help some young people out. But maybe you should work up to that one. In fact, here, take these articles. They’ll give you a good idea of the work I’ve been doing while I wait for my Soul to come my way. And if you can figure out how many people I’ve helped fall in love, or at least lust, that’d be a huge help. Because you never know, they might be right in saying that if I make enough people fall heels over head, I’ll get my passport stamped to go home.

So it’s been great meeting you… next week then? And I didn’t catch your name… Sarah? That’s a great name. It’s been a real pleasure Sarah. Let me walk you out.

And as he walks me to the elevator, I can’t help but notice something new in his eyes. Avoiding his direct stare this time I see the confidence and calm that comes only with, well, with minor deities… but there is something else. Something almost like… panic. Panic, yes, that’s it. He’s so scared he’ll never find her, never find his Soul. And he’s reaching out everywhere he can for help. Reaching out to me. I hold the stack of manuscripts, kiss him on each cheek goodbye, and turn to face him as the elevator doors close. This is definitely going to be an interesting assignment.

Coffee Shops and Watching your Mouth



“Coffee Shops are one of the greatest weapons in a young person’s attraction arsenal. They’re notorious for playing great and random nouveau tango bands, having comfy couches, and just the right amount of background sound and atmosphere to make your date feel comfortable. Plus, the best ones serve good booze. Guys, bring women here. They’ll feel safe, secure, warm, and will give you more credit than being some drunk frat boy who still takes women to bars with peanuts on the ground or with karaoke machines run by men with mullets who live in their vans. Plus in said Coffee Shop, chances are you’ll be more attractive to your date here than that sad single artsy kid over there writing emo stories, or the nerdy kid in the corner sketching furiously away in his designer moleskin. But please, Please, PLEASE make sure you don’t blow it. And the way you’ll blow it? You’ll do what this guy is doing RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME RIGHT NOW, at my local Coffee Shop where I’m writing this very article. Ready? Just STOP TALKING for a change! Women are by nature great communicators. From an early age men communicate with onomatopoeia and sound effects; women communicate through words and complete sentences. Don’t fight nature. When you sit down with a woman at the Coffee Shop of your choice, you’ll be under a lot of pressure to have a conversation. This is a good thing. Conversation is good. But you MUST let her talk! The more you speak, chances are the more you’re going to come across as:



a) A pompous ass

b) A nervous twit

c) An egotistic prick




And we’re all guilty of it. It’s actually OKAY to not fill every moment with meaningless chatter. Ask her questions, and listen for God’s sake. If you’re at a break in the conversation, take a drink of coffee. Smile at her. Engage someone at a nearby table in conversation, smile at your date, and ask them slyly about her. Ok, don’t check your phone – that’s rude. But don’t revert to talking for talking’s sake. The more you keep your mouth shut, the more likely you’ll find something out about her, and let her be intrigued by who you are. When all else fails, comment on other people together. Or listen to the music together. It’s one of the best ways to make a connection without speaking… think Javier Barden taking Vickie to listen to Spanish guitar. There’s something amazingly powerful about two people sitting side by side observing the same thing… together. So you see, there’s a million things you can do, none of which include YOU, the man, talking endlessly. So go make it happen!



And one more thing about coffee shops… Ladies. If you’re the type of girl who finds yourself sitting at a bar, drinking that drink that some guy (who you definitely aren’t in to) bought for you, sitting through a ten minute conversation with him because, well, he did buy you that drink… if you’re one of those girls, dreaming of why there’s no more good men (not nice guys, Good Men)… put your drink down and look across the street at the Coffee Shop and the young man sitting outside bringing life to paper with his pen. He’s the one you want. And guys, if she comes over to you? Don’t blow it…”

Here you go Sarah, here’s your coffee. So you’ve started reading my articles? Great. I’m glad you decided to meet up again. What’s that? No, I haven’t seen my Soul today, thank you very much. I’m very sure I’ll know it when I see her.

At the very mention of his Soul, the glow of confidence in his eyes winks out for the briefest of seconds. His hands twitch nervously as he adjusts his tie. His jaw clenches, his foot goes tap, tap, tap as double shots of fear and adrenaline rush through him. And then it passes; if you weren’t looking for it, you’d never have seen the reaction. But I see it. I want to ask him more, but today, I’ve got some ulterior motives. You see, there’s this guy, and I could use the help of a real life Cupid…

Oh really? A guy huh? And now you’d like some help? Of course I can help. I am the expert on helping people find each other, remember? So who is he? A regular at your gym? And he works in your building… interesting. And have you had any interaction yet? Just smiles in the hall? That’s definitely a start. Do you care if he’s married? I’m sorry, I’m sorry; don’t look at me like that. You never know, there’re some vicious women out there. Not like you Sarah. Ok. I think I have just the solution. Why don’t you give this a read…

He hands me an envelope from out of his briefcase. It’s sealed and dated, as if he already knew he’d be giving it to me today. As if he knew a thousand years ago I’d be asking his advice. The corners of his eyes smile with all the confident joy in the world, and I start to think that there’s something to him being more than human. As he gives me the envelope, he brushes my hand briefly, and I’m not ashamed to admit that my heart skipped a beat. His lips match the smile in his eyes, and he shakes his head laughing.

Oh, Sarah. You’re so… ah. You remind me a lot of what a little sister would be, if I had one. Just read the article, and let me know how it goes with your young man. Next week then? Next week it is. See you soon Sarah.

The Gist of it All… How to Make Him or Her Fall For You



“Call me old fashioned, but there’s something to be said about the classic romantic notion. You know the dance, the one you’ve seen Mr. Grant and Ms. Kelly, Mr. Bogart and Ms. Hepburn do on the silver screen. It’s about men being Good Men (not nice guys, not safe boys, not anything to be trifled with) – full of adventure, intrigue, chivalry, and good old fashioned masculine strength. It’s about women being Good Women (not nice girls, passive chicks, or hot flirts) – full of beauty, strength, joy, and faithfulness. Call me old fashioned, but this is the heart of attraction. It’s innate in every human, these classic ideals. So where are you going to meet Mr. or Mrs. Right? This is the easiest and most important part – Anywhere! Never shut yourself off from the opportunity to meet someone. Grocery stores, gyms, libraries, traffic, on the escalator, coffee shops, the bus, I don’t care. Get in the practice of meeting people outside of bars. Just smile and say hi, and you’ll be amazed at how well it works. But now for the nitty gritty… just how are you going to catch the object of your affection? The truth of the matter is, it all depends on what kind of person you want.



Women, I’ll talk to you first. Do you want a Good Man, or a good time? Now, you can’t have both. If you’re looking for one, you’re NEVER going to get the other. If you want a good time, it’s pretty easy. Show off what you’ve got. If you’re a good looking girl, make it obvious to anyone who can see. Be aggressive, and approach any guy you like. Touch him a lot – personal contact is a powerful tool for you. Keep your conversations light – let him brag about himself. Ask him to buy you drinks, dinners, designer purses. Chances are he will – it’s pretty easy for a guy to spend money instead of spending emotion. And there’s a million men out in the world for you to find who’ll show you a great time. Be careful though, finding a man for a good time means just that; don’t expect him to be quality. And no, you won’t be able to change him after you’ve been together for a while. And you’re not going to find a Good Man either; they’ll be watching how you act, and will be repulsed. Sure, you might get a few dates out of a misguided Good Man, but soon enough you’ll be wondering why it seems like all the men in your life fall so short of those Good Men who just came and left.



Oh, so you want a Good Man then? But you’re worried. You’ve been raised to think they’re nice guys: boring, passive, submissive, and weak. But we’re talking about Good Men – guys who prioritize adventure, passion, strength, power, and true love. They’re everywhere, but the way to land them is quite different. Subtlety is the key, be it in dress, winks, or speech. Everything you do should be to inspire intrigue and adventure in the men around you. I know it’s frustrating, and it might seem like you’re being passive, but that’s hardly the case. If you see a guy out that you like, make eye contact, smile, do whatever your best move is, but be inviting to him so that he’ll come talk to you. And if he doesn’t? Chances are he either lacks the brains or the guts… and it’s better to figure that out now, rather than later. If he still doesn’t see you, you can always do the proximity alert. Move around the room so that you’re standing near him. But still, let him talk to you. And once you’re talking, let the natural fun and joy in your life come out. Be classy, not crass. Laugh and smile, and enjoy the adventure that he’s hopefully spinning for you. Be memorable, unlike any other women he’s going to meet tonight. And from then, you’ll be well on your way. Inspire adventure in him, and if he’s a true Good Man, he’ll deliver. If he doesn’t, have the presence of mind to get out. You’re much too important to waste your time.



Men. What kind of girl do you want? You want a One Fun Night? Easy. Put on the Uniform (jeans, button up striped shirt untucked, and black dress shoes). Go to your nearest young people’s bar. Find the girl attracting all the attention in the world to herself. She’ll usually be:



a) Riding the mechanical bull


b) Dancing on the bar


c) Surrounded by ten guys and loving every minute of it


d) Wearing the smallest outfit of any girl out



If a girl passes any two of these criteria, you’re good to go. How’re you going to pick her up? Here’s the difficult part – you’ve got to put her in her place. Actively act like you’re not interested… heck, even slyly insult her. But at the last second, when her insecure mind is wondering why she doesn’t have any control over you, flip it around. Punk the other guys who are around her, take her to a new location, buy her plenty of drinks, and you’re all set. If you feel masochistic enough to actually date a girl like this, Zeus help you, but your wallet is going to suffer. You’re going to have to constantly keep her wavering, wandering attention on YOU, and enough will never be enough. My best advice is get in, get out, and get on with it. Oh, and you’re not going to change her either. So stop thinking it right now.



Ah. But how to find a Good Woman. This is a tough one, as I really think there are a lot fewer Good Women out there than Good Men (sorry!). The best thing you can do is recognize what it is in women that you want, and put yourself in places where those types of women are. Pretty soon you’ll get really good at avoiding the obvious One Fun Nights, but it’s going to take a lot of searching to still find a Good Woman. Be assertive, be charming and intriguing. Live life with passion, and share that passion with women in your life. Never be cheap, but never think that you can buy affection. Be the Good Man that you are, and hold on to the women who can appreciate and are attracted to those qualities of yours. Ask yourself, does she inspire adventure in you? Does she make you a Better Man? If she doesn’t, it’s time to move on. There’s no magic bullet, but strong self awareness is the best tool you can have. Good luck…”

Another margarita? Ah yes, you are working, I suppose. Oh, so did you read it? Great, great. Look, I’m sorry Sarah, but I’m little bit distracted today. You can tell? Yeah, well. I met her! Sarah, I finally met her! I’ve found my Soul! And she’s so, so Beautiful, Sarah. I wish you could understand. I’ve just waited for so long, and she’s finally here. Where did I meet her? I’m kind of ashamed to say it, but at a bar. But you don’t understand, she’s different. She was only dancing on the bar for a second, and I swear, she’s quite deep. We talked about all sorts of things – from art to music to travel. Yes, of course I got her number. Who do you take me for? We’re going out this Friday. I’m so excited Sarah, my Heart’s been waiting for so long…

I’ve never before seen pure joy and excitement embodied so perfectly in a living being as him right this second. He can hardly sit still he’s so happy. Everything he says is something about her, about how her hair is just so, how her laugh is crystal clear, how her eyes are the deepest sea of green… and yet, I can’t help but be worried for him. In the few weeks I’ve known him, he’s been nothing but the confident and charismatic image of masculinity that could care less whether a woman wanted him in her life. And now that he’s found his Soul, he’s as giddy as a school child. And after everything he’s said about her, she doesn’t sound THAT good for him…

But Sarah, you don’t understand. She’s so much like me. Sure she gets a lot of attention from men, and yes, so what, she loves it. But it’s just like how it is for me. Women throw themselves at me everyday… how can I blame her for anything different. Yes, I know she’s human and I’m Cupid. What does that have to do with anything? Don’t look at me like that. She’s my Soul, Sarah!

His phone bounces along the table as it announces a message. A message deemed unimportant enough to require the sacred breath of life, the breath of Love that comes from our lips. A message so un-special that it carries all the ambiguities and clumsiness of the basic building blocks of our language. A text. His usually sure hand shakily grabs the phone. His face falls.

Hmm. That’s okay, I guess. Apparently she has to work this Friday night. Oh well. But that’s good! She’s career oriented. She’s got her head in the right place. She’s… well. She’s my Soul.

A long breath in. A longer breath out. I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been waiting thousands of years for your Soul.

But enough about me. Tell me about your smiling gym guy. Oh he talked to you? That’s wonderful Sarah! Proximity alert? Yep, knew it. At a coffee shop? Perfect. And you’re going out this Friday? Well I’m glad somebody is. No, I’m not bitter; you’re going to have a great time. I have a good feeling about this one Sarah. Let me know how it goes. Next week then? In the meantime, here’s another piece for you to read… maybe it’ll help you on Friday. But I’m confident in you, Sarah.

Joie de Vive



"The Joy of Life. Ask a hundred people on the street, and 99 of them will say that of course, that’s what they’re striving for. And that last guy who said no is actually talking to a fire hydrant right now, so don’t even put too much into what he says. A Drama Filled Summer. No one in their right mind would ever say that that’s what they want. Yet take a look at a hundred relationships around you. Are the majority filled with two people enjoying the pure Joy of Life? Or are they creating Drama Drama Drama… I think you already know the answer.



But what isn’t known is WHY. I’ve seen relationships a few weeks old create the most massive pyrotechnic displays of emotional outbursts. How can there even be that much fighting when there’s been such a short amount of emotional investment? Why do people stick around and crave Drama when it’s obviously (well, obvious to everyone else) unhealthy? Here’s the answer: Because at the end of the day, we’re all hungry.



We feed on emotion. I don’t care how many of you out there have made it your solemn vow that you’re better off alone – you’re not fooling anyone. Everybody gets as hungry emotionally as they do physically. And I’ll bet there’s more emotional eating disorders out there than physical ones – people making their hearts take part in fasting, binging, purging, gluttonizing, or becoming vegetarian. (Not that I have anything against vegetarians, but someone who chooses to take part in some emotions and not others can’t be trusted).



There’s a lot of hungry people walking around out there. And as soon as they smell blood, as soon as they sense that their hearts are on the verge of being filled, they reach for junk food. They create the easy drama that keeps a relationship going. They feed on the high fructose corn syrup of emotion. They malnourish themselves on empty calories. And as soon as they sense their food source is slipping away, they sink their teeth in deeper and refuse to let go.



So what’s to do? Easy. CALM DOWN. Wait for the meal to be served. Enjoy all the courses that your relationship has to offer. Whether it’s an ala carte and quick lived or a fantastic 21 course pairing menu and meant to go the distance, enjoy the meal as it comes to you. Embrace the Joy of Life. For God’s sake smile. Leave the Drama and junk food out. Eat, drink, and be merry."

Here, take your burger. Sarah, I have to tell you! We went out Sarah. She finally called me at the last minute on Saturday night and we went out. Yes, it was great! We got into a tiny little argument at first about… well I don’t even remember what it was about. But it doesn’t matter. I took her to a great dinner, and we had some drinks afterwards. A couple of her friends joined us as well for drinks, and I got to know them pretty well when she was off talking to some of her other friends who happened to be there. They were interesting guys, I guess. She ended up going to a house party of theirs, but it was just as well, since I had to write a new article. Here it is. I…

I can’t believe what’s become of him. His normally impeccable style is sloppy – his tie is undone, his shirt untucked, his shoes mismatched. His eyes have huge bags under them. The panic I’d caught glimpses of before is wilder than ever, burning coals threatening to consume him; threatening to consume us all. He pushes a tattered pile of papers towards me. His normally flowing script is replaced with angry scratches… and there’s tear stains and holes everywhere. I take a quick look down. I can barely make anything out, except for a few words about Faith and Forever, about Weariness and Wariness. And as he rambles on, his eyes take the briefest break from their panic… and in that instance there is only the sadness of a thousand eternities.


…but she’s really quite perfect. She’s my Soul. I hope she returns my call this week… But wait, Sarah! What about you? How’d it go?

IT WENT GREAT Q. FIRST CLASS WORK, CONGRATULATIONS. I THINK THAT’S AN EVEN MILLION.

The man sitting at the booth across the way had just put down his paper and started talking to us. He was dressed in an all white linen suit, and carried the air, the respect, that only comes with… well… Major Deities. He’s easily the most pompous human I’ve ever met (and I haven’t even met him) but I can’t help but stare. He has so much power, power that he’s not using. Maybe he’s right… maybe there is a Cupid; maybe there is a Zeus.


AN EVEN MILLION. I NEVER THOUGHT YOU’D MAKE IT TO THIS POINT, BUT YOU’VE DONE IT. YOU’RE DONE. YOU’RE FREE TO COME HOME. YOUR MOTHER MISSES YOU SO MUCH… AND YOUR CURSE IS FORGIVEN. COME ON HOME.

But… big Z. She’s here. My Soul is here! How can I leave my Soul behind? She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and she’s…

Q, MY BOY. REALLY? I KNOW YOU’RE CURSED IN LOVE, BUT THIS IS RIDICULOUS. COME HOME. THINK OF ALL YOU CAN DO HELPING PEOPLE FIND LOVE FROM THE VANTAGE POINT OF OUR MOUNT OLYMPUS. AH… BUT I GUESS IT IS YOUR CHOICE...

And at that moment, it became more than just a story, just an article for me. He’s opened up my life to the possibility of love. (And what better gift is that?) But this man, this real life Cupid is faced with the biggest decision of his life. There he is, Zeus in the flesh, holding out his hand to him. Cupid licks his lips, prepares to open his mouth. It’s as though the whole world waits in anticipation of his lips caressing the Breath of Love… Of the power of words standing ready to seal his fate in either immortality or Love (such as it is) with his Soul. But as we all lean forward to bear witness to this monumental decision… one that has been played out a million times a day… a breeze, a Wind really, comes flirting though an open window to pick up his reply. And I smile. He really is Cupid. It’s the right choice, and worthy of being carried out on the Wind…


...And so the wind doth blow across the land,
Taking with it the grains of Time's sand.
Another tale closes its pages
Until opened again by history's sages