Cupid was at it again. I came home to find the bedroom a mess. I pulled my red angora sweater from under the edge of the bed and along came one of my new valentine socks, the knee-high ones covered in sparkly red hearts and little dancing devils. There was a hole where my big toe would go!

“Cupid!” I yelled as I raced down the hall waving my mutilated sock. No sign of Cupid upstairs.

I stomped down the stairs and searched behind the sofa and inside the hall closet. I changed my tune, calling sweetly, “Cupid. I’m home. Where’s my sweetheart?”

In the basement, I opened cabinet doors, looked behind storage boxes, and checked under the seldom used guest bed. I climbed the stairs still calling sweetly, “Where’s my Cupid?”

In the kitchen I spotted the undamaged toe of my other new sock peeking from under the refrigerator. The sock wiggled as I pulled it out. “Cupid! You’ve been a naughty boy again.” I snuggled the warm sock under my chin. I felt Cupid uncoil from his hiding place and slither into his favorite position, wrapped around my neck choker-style.

© 2008 Cynthia Becker. Original for CCF (Becker grants CCF first electronic rights for one month; CCF may archive the material indefinitely and include it in an eBook anthology).