by Meg Brodeur '24 on December 6, 2022
The Goddess of Love donned a velvet crimson dress softer than rose petals. She strolled along the city’s cobblestone walkway as the water sent an autumn chill to brush against her skin. Lifting her gaze to the sky, the moon looked back at her, revealing only a sliver of its full, plump figure. She rolled her eyes at its secrecy and relished in the few stars dwelling in between the clouds. The streetlamps highlighted her ethereal glow and drew the attention of the strangers who passed by her. Aphrodite rid herself of gawking men with the simple snap of her slender fingertips. She perched herself on the park bench closest to the silky midnight tides. From across the bay, she felt a thread forming between two lovers who were lounging together in a state of mellow bliss. Thinking of their home, her mood softened. They lived in a cozy cottage, tucked away from the obnoxious city lights. Inside, the two paramours reclined together on a well-loved emerald-green sofa with threadbare upholstery. Neither seemed to mind the condition of their furniture, or the paint that had smudged from her hands onto his cheek. Next to them was a half-finished portrait of him. She’d promised herself only a short break before returning to her work. But every time she got up, he urged her to come back. And every time she got up, she missed the feeling of his arms around her. So she gave in, and with their limbs intertwined, they fell asleep by the crackling hearth.