Love’s Frequency (Valentine’s Day 2024 Radio Request Line)

[Anubis Karos]

At dusk on the 14th of February, a wizened papyrus would abruptly find itself reposing upon the corner of the DJ's studio. Elegant cursive was distorted by the creases which swam across the gaunt membrane, truncated in spots by the crevices at the margin which opened like a wound at the slightest touch. The bisque tint of the papyrus waned in the studio's neon light so as to become like a ghost, further obscuring the missive. But all the same, it could be deciphered.

Songsmith, play the Snow Maiden by the great Slavonic bard Tchaikovsky. From an eternal man to an eternal woman. Play at midnight, and do not waste the matter during the daylight hours. Because romance flowers best under the moonlight, of course.

You will be well recompensed.

The studio was as airtight as it had been at the moment the employees left, no hint of how the missive could have gotten in.

[DJ Cupid]

At just a minute to midnight, with the final strains of the Righteous Brothers’ “Unchained Melody” fading, DJ Cupid’s honeyed voice graces the airwaves one last time for the year.

“We have one final request as Valentine’s Day draws to a close. This one is dedicated to an eternal woman from an eternal man. I leave you all with Tchaikovsky’s score for The Snow Maiden. Goodnight, Rhy’Din. DJ Cupid signing off.”

The opening notes of The Snow Maiden’s first movement begin to play over a gentle echo of his voice. And then something most wondrous happens.

Though the score is more than an hour long, it is played in its entirety. The movements are intoxicating and played with skill. Some might even call the music enchanting because of the way it holds the listener firmly in the present with sound blooming all around them, making the moments seem to deepen and stretch into the night.

When the composition has finally ended and the last notes are shivering and dying out on the airwaves, those who are listening may be surprised to find that only a few minutes have passed, according to their favorite timepieces. It’s a poignant reminder—music is magic.

And this magic has one more gift to give: blood red roses appear in the vicinity of the eternal lovers, one for each of them.

From there, the final whisper of music gives way to a nothingness that persists through the night, into the next day, and beyond. The same is true of the radio station itself. Any mail sent to the station will be returned to sender, all calls will reach only dead air, and any who might try to pay the station a visit will find only an empty warehouse with a layer of dust coating every surface, including the floor.

It is as though WLUV 103.3 Love’s Frequency and DJ Cupid never existed at all.