Third Place Story, 2002.

The Last Word

Laura Kay Eppin

The marriage goddess found no humor in me the day she sought her husband among the nymphs. Zeus has the tendency to stray away from his spouse, and on that particular day his wandering eye fell upon one of my companions.

Hamadria, a nymph of the oak, was amusing him that day. I had no particular tie to Hamadria, no reason to risk my life for her, except that I knew she would do the same for me. It was not out of a loving friendship that I acted, but obedience to an unwritten law binding my kind to protect each other. We knew that we were food for the gods, even the ones with proud wives. It is a strange relationship we nymphs had, but it is one that has kept us alive for centuries.

Hamandria was pretty, I suppose, but not beautiful like Artemis. Artemis stood tall and took pride in her swift intellect and archery abilities, standing tall with a strong build and fearing nothing. Hamandria, on the other hand, was a wiry spindle of a nymph with dark rings around her eyes and a head of platinum blonde hair. She had a fragile body, which she displayed brazenly in a tight toga with a high hemline. She drank much, which became the cause of her constantly red-tinged eyes. Though always laughing, especially in the presence of men, I couldn’t help but feel that she was empty inside.

Zeus didn’t see the Hamandria I saw and sought her out many times. Hera may have turned a blind eye on this activity once, perhaps even twice, but after a while Zeus’s frequent rendezvous with Hamandria turned Hera into a vindictive huntress, searching for a victim to blight.

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