Synonymph
Marc Rettig, June 2019
Once again on Tuesday, “Despite all words of caution from her mother, the sheep chose to graze among the lilies” strolls down the long winding path to the creek at the bottom of the hill for his weekly bath.
Being a sentence of middle age and little popularity, his home is in a remote corner of the utterance plain populated by widely-spaced neighbors of bland character. Just the way “Despite all words of caution from her mother, the sheep chose to graze among the lilies” likes things to be. So no one sees him as he takes his walk through the golden light of the late afternoon. Not even his wife, “Sometimes the manner of presentation detracts from enjoyment of the meal,” who was puttering in the garden behind the house.
“Despite all words of caution from her mother, the sheep chose to graze among the lilies” makes his way to his favorite spot, unties his loin cloth, sets it on a stone, and eases into the cool water of the creek. What a wonderful feeling, he thinks, to shed a week’s accumulation of sweat and stray punctuation in such a beautiful and private spa.
Just then, a faint drippy-nip sound comes from the other side of the stream. What could it be? “Despite all words of caution from her mother, the sheep chose to graze among the lilies” lowers himself into the water until only his eyes, nose, and bushy serifed brows are visible, and stares at the deep shade under the branch he believes to be the source of the sound.
There! Perclip! A tiny ring of ripples on the surface, a flit of movement. What IS it?
Move closer, slowly, cautiously. And again: trip, trip, trip, three spreading rings on the water and a glimpse of something. Too big to be an insect. Too small to be a bird.
And flash! It rushes toward “Despite all words of caution from her mother, the sheep chose to graze among the lilies,” and in a blaze of bright blue he realizes…. He realizes, too late. A synonymph!
Her gardening complete — the weeds pulled and stacked, the dry buds nipped, the water applied in just the right amount to each plant, “Sometimes the manner of presentation detracts from enjoyment of the meal” comes round to the spigot at the front of the house to rinse her hands and clean the tools. Noticing the silence, she thinks, “Where has that husband of mine got to? He must be having an extraordinarily luxurious Tuesday bath.”
Turning with a towel in her hands, she sees a figure appearing step by step over the rise, coming into view along the path. “Well, then, that’s surely my dear ‘Despite all words of caution from her mother, the sheep chose to graze among the lilies’ now.”
But wait. As he draws nearer it becomes clear. He… has… changed. His simple direct language with its modest notes of poetry is gone. The plain but evocative “graze” that had first caught her eye is no more. Oh, what has happened? What stands before her is no longer the sentence she adores.
He moves closer, head down, saying nothing. He is weighted with shame. And now he stands before her, and she sees… something. Perhaps. Perhaps he is still in there. Perhaps her dear “Despite all words of caution from her mother, the sheep chose to graze among the lilies” can still be found under the cold facade of “Nothwithstanding progenitorial admonitions, the ewe determined to ruminate amidst herbaceous flowering plants of the genus Lilium.”
