I found Cupid sitting in a cubicle.
He was working on a computer. He wore a coat over his wings. I might never have recognized him, if not for the chubby legs that didn't reach the ground.
Also, the bow and arrow on the floor.
"What are you doing here?" I asked. "It's almost Valentine's Day. Shouldn't you be flying around, making people fall in love?"
"Those days are over," he sighed.
"Everything's on the Internet now."
He nodded to his computer. On the screen was one of those dating websites, Match.com or eHarmony. He tapped the face of a middle-aged salesman and dragged it across to an auburn-haired schoolteacher.
"That's my new arrow. Just move the cursor."
"There's even an app for it," he said.
"Wait a minute," I protested. "You're Cupid, son of Venus. You're a legend -- or at least a myth! What are you doing in cyberspace?"
"Step into the 21st century, mister," he said. "This is what romance is now. She makes her list. He makes his list. She makes a request. He gives a response. She emails. He emails. Maybe they meet. Maybe they don't."
He shook his head. "It ain't Anthony and Cleopatra, if you know what I mean."
Poor little fellow. He looked so out of place. His tiny harp was stuffed in a gym bag. He wore shoes that covered the little wings on his ankles. All around the office, men and women were so engrossed in work, they didn't realize the legend of love was among them.
"I'm used to it," he admitted. "True love is a thing of the past. Today it's movie love, or computer love, or reality TV love."
"What kind is that?" I asked.
"The kind where a marriage lasts 73 days, and someone else pays for the wedding."
Cupid's arrow not what it used to be
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