Late into the night and well into the
morning Bonnie stared at the ceiling through the dark, wondering when the
consequence of her action would be realized. These things never happened
quickly. The last time she’d bent a rule just enough to cause alarm, it had
been nearly a full week before anyone had even noticed. When they did she’d
stood her ground, stubbornly digging in her mint-coloured heels, until
eventually they realized that hers had been the right call.
There was a reason the final decision of when
to fire an arrow rested entirely on her shoulders.
This felt different though. From where she
stood there really wasn’t a valid reason to not seal the deal for them. The
only thing still holding her back was that she objected both to him finding someone
else, and to him using Tinder to do it.
At some stage, she guessed it was probably
the sixties, most of the romance had gone out of dating. No longer did the man
turn up on your doorstep bearing flowers and extending his hand to take your own
as he walked you to the car. No. Those days were long over. Now you simply saw
someone’s photo on your phone and swiped one way to never see them again, the
other way to open yourself up to heartfelt messages like ‘DTF?’ from men
clearing only in pursuit of one thing.
That was the part Bonnie most objected to.
The more relationships she sealed that started with such a base interaction,
the more lonely souls that would be lured towards such a start in the hope that
it might bring them true love too.
‘Read the file, Bonnie. Please?’ Richard
had begged her, and she had.
There was nothing there though. No
substance to their interactions, no fleshy filling to solidify any real sense
of rapport or chemical attraction. It was purely primal. Hardcore sex, and
within twenty-five minutes of meeting.
She continued to stare up at the ceiling
and began to wonder, what if, just in this little town of hers, she refused to
fire an arrow at anyone who met in a technology-based manner? No internet
dating sites, no phone apps, nothing at all that reeked of that sort of dehumanization
of falling in love.
In the early hours of the morning a smug
smile set on Bonnie’s lips. New game, sports-fans. You want to fall in love on
my watch? You’re going to do it the old fashioned way or not at all, she chuckled
to herself as she finally drifted off.
