The Clipping of Cupid
We could never got the smell of urine out of the precinct house, gave up trying a long time ago. I quickly began to associate the yellowish odor as being home. It soothed and calmed my sixty something nerves. In secret, I matched the warmth with heat from my incontinent bladder as it released tiny rivulets of piss in my adult diaper. I was content in my incontinence and I tried not to question why, because I probably didn't want to really know the answers.
The perp was a perv. Ironically he was dressed in his own adult diaper, but that was it, no pants to cover his shame. His chest was bandaged by a half toga from a torn Disney's Pixar Toy Story movie sheet, the cartoon caricature faces of Tom Hanks and Tim Allen were unmistakable. He was found sitting among a mound of pigeon feathers in Central Park around the Cherry Hill area, a long bow in his hands and a quiver of arrows on his back.
He sat across from me in quiet dignity and although his feet were not long enough to touch the floor, he did not kick them back and forth like a child. He looked me directly in the eye, never once wavering away from my face. This was rare today and I respected his manners even though he was without question a looney tune.
"Name?" I asked.
"Name what?"
"I want your name Twinkles?" God, I hoped this guy wasn't gonna be a putz and defy my previous observations. "What is your name?"
"Cupid or Eros, your choice," He replied.
"Do you realize that it is illegal to hunt in Central Park?"
"Sure, everybody knows that, but I wasn't hunting."
"Buddy, you were found with a bow and arrows and feathers all around you like ticket tape in a ticket tape parade, plus you've got an indecent exposure charge too."
"Love is like that..."
To be cont…
© Lee Gooden
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