If Amanuensis was what you were sure they had said
they were named, you couldn’t be blamed – they’d
certainly said something like it. In fact, though,
Amanu and Sis were their monikers. Sis stood for
Sisyphus – apt for the randomly angled magnificence
which his companion Amanu rode everywhere: she
had discovered him trapped on a mountainside under
a boulder (recalling the myth) – she gave him a kiss
and re-christened him Sis, and they got on quite nicely.
While he wasn’t precisely the lover she’d sought, she’d
grown older and tired of looking, Sis seemed like a gift,
and Amanu had found him quite easy to handle.
She chose to be known as Amanu because of the shoes
for which that was the name of their line of chic
custom-made sandals for which you’d decide the design.
She jumped at the chance though the company wasn’t
delighted with what she apparently had had in mind:
a sandal disjointed into a red pointed affair reminiscent
of something that prostitutes wear. So why do I go on
like this about them? Why do I think you would care?
Oh, you don’t? Okay, I was going to go on, but I won’t.
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