Recall that we earlier made a fairly exhaustive survey of three-letter combinations which can be re-arranged? No? Well, we did. and now we can move on to more fertile ground: the 4-letter words mentioned in the title.
(and if you, dear reader, don’t find this fascinating, well, you better click out before THIS SITH SHIT HITS the WP fan. CYA, but do come later, ok?)
This story belongs, I suppose to ERIC, a student at RICE University, and his girl-friend LOIS, who is getting her master’s in SOIL management there.
Eric, who changes his major like some folks change socks, suffers as do I , from synesthesia, and one of its attendant symptoms; helplessly watching, in one’s mind’s eye, as letters, all coloured and aromatic, float in a kind of bee-swarm off the page… and all words with the same four letters, for example, are distinctive ‘members of that swarm’.
Lois, her hands and feet a bit deeper in the rich soil of normalcy, none-the-less tolerated his quirks. A sweet couple, they should be together for a hundert jahr’n.
When they met, Eric was pursuing studies in both Chem and Bio. “I’m gonna be a STAR,” he told her, “with my Bachellor-of-ARTS in both TARS and RATS.” Lois gazed at the horizon, trying not to laugh.
That was before it all became serious. And serious it did became when the two of them sub-let the apartment of Lois’ close friends, MARY and MYRA, who’d gone off to join the ARMY. Lois thought the coincidence odd; Eric called it ‘predestined’.
Who knows, but it did keep happening. One by one their friends ‘manifested‘ (let’s call it). BRAD, a truly DRAB fellow with limited charisma, landed a job right off-campus in Houston portraying Wm. Shakespeare, a BARD of some note. Then, in turn, BARB married an ARAB, ENOS got a (disastrous) NOSE-job, KURT discovered his roots as a TURK, and even Lois’ dear sister Mimi, studying vocal performance in Sherbrooke, Quebec, took the summer off to fly to Norway, just to sing SOLO in the LOOS of OSLO.
That was probably the ‘convincer‘ for Lois. “If this ain’t an OMEN from NOME I don’t know from omens!” she said to herself, and, blushing, turned to Eric and whispered:
“Let’s turn out the lights, put in that DISK you love, and have a SKID of KIDS. You know the one; we’ll play it again and again.”
“You mean “RINA: ‘Singing through the RAIN‘?” Eric asked, but of course they both knew.
And so we pan out discretely. Watch a FLEA do cartwheels on a LEAF, a FOAL LOAF around on the ACRE test-plot Lois was given to CARE for, down by the RACE-track (after KAY’S YAKS failed to multiply, but instead just SHAT in the Trainer’s HATS.
The wedding was a magical affair: In a pink fairy dress, DAWN blessed the couple with her WAND and they exited to happily-ever-after-land in a hale of rice, thence to the vehicle they’d rented. A RACECAR, duh. You had any doubts?