One Last Game
Cupid hung his head. Every grain of salt chewed at his bare ass, the intermittent water’s calm fleeting at best, but he couldn’t move.
Silky raven strands and soulful brown eyes burned to memory stabbed him, Tara’s image, unbearably beautiful.
They said God’s will was not his – only God’s law within reach, but how could he not reach for love, taunted by the gift interminably?
One last game.
Naked, hungry, stranded by the sea, his wings, perfect for quick take-offs and short landings hung useless at his back.
He sensed Tara’s approach, but what could he do for her now?