A touch of magic

If you ever run your fingers, slowly, over a real unicorn’s horn, starting at the pointed tip and moving downwards, it feels cold and smooth and hard like a seashell or a china cup but also like a series of bumps, rising and curving and dipping where the horn twists round in a spiral.

Rub the edge of your fingernail along it and you make a sort of clicking sound, like the sound of a marimba.

And at the bottom of the horn is the creatures head and the soft, silky tangled curls of its flowing milk white mane that you can tousle round your fingers or stroke.

Stroke the unicorns mane and it will turn its large blue eyes up to look at you, appreciatively, and smile and if it likes you it may allow you to make a wish upon its horn.

If it does then what you must do is place both your hands very gently upon the horn and then you will feel those smooth bumps that are pressed against your palm and fingertips start to vibrate; you’ll feel a sort of buzzing and then a prickling like static electricity and the horn will start to feel a lot warmer at which point you’ll begin to see it glow with a soft, golden sort of light that pours out between your fingers and then you won’t even feel it at all; nothing but the prickling because, at that point, it has become pure magical energy.

There’s no need to speak your wish because, if you then close your eyes, you’ll see its two bright, blue unicorn eyes peering out of the darkness and gazing deep into your mind and the deepest, innermost desires of your heart.

However, you might start to think, right at that moment, “Is this real or am I just dreaming it all?”.

That’s what I thought, you see, but it was a mistake to think that because the minute that I stopped believing, it all began to fade; those soft, fluffy curls of its mane that I had felt between my fingers and my knuckles became like wisps of white smoke, breaking up and dissolving into the air and the velvety softness of its fur covered skin and the taut, firmness of the muscle and rigidity of bone beneath began to melt, becoming cloud like before vanishing altogether.

And, before I knew it, I had lost my unicorn.

If you ever have the chance to touch; to feel a real unicorn then don’t, for even a moment, stop believing that its real; hold onto the hardness and coldness of its horn; revel in the softness of its mane; even press your nose deep in its mane and smell that musky unicorn scent as I did; confirm to yourself that it is all real or you might lose it too and if you lose it, just like me, you’ll never get your wish.