I’ve been exploring some new parks lately, and this one has a well-kept secret, or maybe a joke, since I didn’t see either horn or hair of a unicorn.
From her seat on a bench, an old woman motioned me over to
her with a nod of her silvery head, and as she rested a hand on her cane she said,
“You must be lookin’ for the unicorn.”
“Yes, but haven’t seen any.”
She began feeding the pigeons and said, “There’s only one,
and she’s to be seen only ‘tween sunset and nightfall, only by those who
believe… like you.”
“Thank you,” I said as I glanced down at my body, wondering
what showed that I believed in unicorns. “Will you be here tonight?” I asked.
She said nothing, but gave me a wide, toothless grin.
That evening I returned and saw the old woman, teetering
over the footbridge as she leaned on her white cane. I followed and called to
her, but she disappeared into shadows of the trees beyond the bridge before
I could cross. I thought I saw her cane, but instead, the tip of a white horn
extended from behind a wide trunk.
Tea Leaf Tales is a series of original ten-sentence
short stories by Marsha A. Moore, relating to photos/scenes that resonate with
her.
