• Unicorn

    Leaves the colour of fire drift silently towards the forest floor, there they mingle with the gentle greens of the moss and the brooding browns of the tree trunks. A beam of sunlight pierces through the branches, the light dappling on the yielding ground. Wind sighs through the trees, its voice talking of far off lands, of the deserts in the south and the snow-capped mountains in the north.
    A creature of legend materialises from the tree line. Its silver flanks stand out in stark contrast with the colours around it. Eyes that speak of aeons of memories gaze over the glade before it. Its hoofs make no impression on the soft forest floor as the unicorn enters into the middle of the clearing. Its horn, a single spire of the purest ebony, points up to the sun above, an acknowledgment that has gone on since time began.
    The Unicorn dips its head cautiously, reaching for the verdant grass. The blades seem all too eager to be feasted on by a being as noble as this. The swish of the Unicorns tail echoes in tangent to the sigh of the wind. All else is silent.
    The crunch of a heavy boot disturbs the seen. Without so much as a backwards glance the unicorn slips back into the tree line, it’s figure melting into the background. The wind continues its monotonous drone, as if trying to shield the Unicorn’s movements.
    As the children lay down their picnic blanket while their father takes multitudes of photographs, capturing the scene rather than experiencing it, two dark, ancient eyes gaze back from the safety of the tree line.
    Then they are gone.