The Tardy Cherub

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Cupid snoozed—his alarm betrayed, Wings askew, his bow mislaid. Love showed up a moment late, Blushing, breathless, tempting fate. Turns out hearts still fell just fine— Even tardy arrows hit on time.

Stretching my left arm out, the first thing I touch is . . .

My coffee pot.

No, its my stress ball.

Wait, no, it's my coffee pot.

And my stress ball.

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