Momma says there are no such things as unicorns. They’re mythical beasts, the creations of rich imaginations. Really, the very idea of there being a pony with a horn protruding from its forehead. They are just freaks of nature.
I’ll bet my dad would agree with me. But I don’t know him, he never came back around after I was born.
I love it when I run around with my hair blowing wild and free in the wind. I imagine I’m a unicorn. Momma scolds, telling me to train my hair to hang over my freak of nature forehead.
©2018 Annette Rochelle Aben 02/24 Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction – Unicorns