Cupid goes on a picnic

The sound of raised voices woke him up with a start. Cupid had never been able to deal with harsh or cross words. He trembled and almost fell off the branch he was leaning on.

Cupid had been enjoying his day so much, the warm Spring sunshine on his skin, his curls bouncy and glossy, his little wings fluffed up in the breeze and the cherry blossom floating around him.  The park was full of  people enjoying the beautiful weather. He had used a few of his baby pink arrows on the young people with excellent results.

In one group a young girl  had been  glancing at one of the boys, but he hadn't noticed.  Cupid could see the strings of her heart tugging towards him. The boy had looked up suddenly and caught the girl's eye. Cupid thought he'd help a bit. He raised his bow and pointed his arrow carefully towards the boy. There was a ping and the boy swatted his face, confused. Then he stood up and went towards the girl, his hand outstretched, inviting her to join the group.

The raised voices had calmed down, there was laughter now and he relaxed back into the safety of the tree to observe the newcomers. There was a man and a woman and they stopped right underneath him. They were admiring  the primroses and the carpet of cherry blossom.

The woman was wearing a pink top and matching trousers. Cupid loved pink and he sat up to get a better look. The woman was  busy laying out rugs and opening up a basket. The man sat down to help her. He took out some bread and ham  and poured wine in paper cups. Cupid smiled, he always liked to see team work in a couple.

The couple sat down and Cupid lay back and listened to the way they enthused over their picnic meal and raised their paper cups of wine. He liked that, he'd always liked simple pleasures.

Cupid took out one of his arrows and rubbed at it until it shone. He was so proud of his arrows. The pink ones for young love, tender and full of hope and joy. The silver ones that shone so beautifully, they were full of excitement and adventure, the glossy gleaming red ones full of passion and intense deep emotion. Then he had the pale blue ones. He felt a bit sad when he thought of these. He used them when Love was weakened  to  heal the wounds of the heart. Right at the back of his pouch were the gold ones. His heart swelled at the sight of them. They were the most powerful of all. Sometimes he was quite overwhelmed by them. They were for the desperate cases. The ones who had almost given up.

There was an angry shout from the couple.

There were more harsh words, the wine had been spilt on the woman's trousers.

Cupid covered his ears. He hated that sort of talking. It made all the hard work he did seem like a waste of time.

He looked more closely at the couple. He recognized them, he remembered using specially nice arrows on them. He had used the pink ones when the woman was a young girl.  He had  followed up quickly with the silver and then the red, full of enthusiasm at the wonderful results. He hesitated and looked again at the couple. They had had a lot of challenges and life hadn't been easy for them, but  he could still see the places where his arrows had hit.  He thought sadly of the time when he had had to use the pale blue ones, to heal the pain and hurt. Perhaps they hadn't been enough.

 Maybe the couple needed to be reminded of what it was like when their love was young. The way the sun  had caressed their skin and the sweetness of their breath as they drew close . The way hands reached out and got comfort and strength just by holding tight, fingers interlocking,  the soft touch of lips and the gentle sweep of hair brushing over a shoulder that had sent shivers of pleasure rolling over them.

Cupid took out one of his golden arrows. He caressed it lovingly and placed it in the bow. He hesitated. Then he drew back and aimed.