The Lady and the Unicorn - REVISED (see second page)

Okay... this post is the first draft. The second major draft is here:

viewtopic.php?p=137066#137066

So if you want to see how much I progress with a draft, then you can see! And if you want to say that the first draft is better, now you can! (I hope that isn't the case, but you never know). So check out the final draft and have fun.

Enjoy!

The Lady and the Unicorn

Eleanor liked the way her husband smelled. It was a strange mixture of sweat, soap, and axle grease, from working on cars all day long. Now he was asleep, his damp hair ruffled by the pillowcase. He had been tossing and turning, and from the soft moonlight that stole through the blinds, she could see that his face had turned rigid. He was clenching his teeth.

She brushed her hand over his ears, letting her fingers comb through his thin hair. He moved slightly at her touch, and for a moment she thought he would wake up.

“Love?” she murmured. Her voice sounded half-asleep.

Still, he smiled and turned towards her. A gentle snore came from him, vibrating the walls of the room, followed by another of even greater proportions. She listened to him for a minute, letting her breathing fall in sync with his snoring.

“Love?” she murmured again. Her lips trembled. “I can’t sleep.”

Her voice was soft, too soft to wake him up, but that was okay. She didn’t want to disturb him. He had gone to bed early, sleeping from a hard day’s work, and soon he would wake up again, only to work another day and come back home, coated with new stains and smells from his job. Every night, he would wash himself, scrubbing his oily, dark skin into a soft pink. The stains always disappeared, but the smell never seemed to wash away.

His face was passive and so at ease that she couldn’t resist smiling, reaching out to stroke his cheek. Her fingers bumped along the bristles of his unshaven face. “I think I had a bad day,” she admitted in a whisper, leaning closer to him so her face nearly touched his. “I took Julia to the doctor today. She has an ear infection. But the insurance won’t pay for the medicine the doctor prescribed. They say it’s nothing. They say that she’ll get better. But I know she won’t.”

He gave a louder snore than usual.

She shivered and sat up quickly, afraid of waking him up, but after a moment, his body relaxed. Once more, she hovered just above his face, brushing back her long hair so it fell back. “She’s deaf. She can barely hear what I say. You remember how she loved music, more than anything? She can’t hear it. It’s nothing to her.”

Her voice felt raw, and besides, she was getting too shrill anyway. She stopped talking and rubbed her throat instead. Once more she forced herself to breathe with his snoring.

For a minute, all she concentrated on was his snoring, and soon she felt her eyes close. Colors began to play across her eyelids, green and yellow dots dancing in front of a black curtain. Once more, she snuggled beside him, burying her head into fleece blanket, and sighed.

She might have fallen asleep, but a second later, a sharp whistle coming out from her husband instead of the usual snore. She jerked up and gave a cry, clutching the blankets around her tightly. Then, after realizing what the whistle was and how loud she must have sounded, she clamped a hand over her mouth, her face turning red.

But her husband didn’t hear her and the snoring continued anew. Except now she couldn’t sleep.

Eleanor listened to him for several more minutes and tried to keep quiet. She rocked and forth, shivering, her hands rubbing her sleek polyester sleeves of her old nightgown. There she stayed until finally a sick lurch came to her stomach. She leaned closer to her husband. “I think it’s much worse than just an ear infection,” she confessed. She reached out to touch her husband’s shoulders, but he turned away from her, rolling onto his other side. He stopped snoring.

Though she knew that he was only asleep and he would not be able to hear her anyway, a terrible pang of loneliness hit her. She crawled off the bed and stood up, her pink nightgown a pale gray in the moonlight. For a moment, she just stood there, watching her husband. Then, carefully so she would not wake him, she crept out of the room and into the hallway.

In the daylight, the hallway was a multitude of bright colors, from the family photos that hung neatly on the walls to the blue shag carpets covering the oak floor. But now at night, the moon cast an eerie glow on everything so that the colors were weird and distorted. She blinked, adjusting her eyes to the pale light, and tiptoed through the hallway, her fingers trailing over the frames and faces of her family.

Usually when she looked at the photographs, the first thing she noticed was her husband’s beaming face, which she found handsome, even after seven years of marriage. But now, Julia’s face poked out. In all the pictures, she was smiling as she always did, as a three year old was supposed to smile, though the moonlight twisted the picture, making her face strangely pale. Still, a smile flickered on Eleanor’s face as she stared at the pictures. There was Julia as she first walked. Julia, being kissed by her father, who had a dark oil stain on his nose. Julia, playing with a stuffed doggy. Julia…

But the photograph that attracted Eleanor the most was the one with her by the ocean. Julia was holding up a conch shell to her ear and had the most surprised, most delighted look on her face. “Look Mommy!” Julia had cried, just before the picture had been taken, small waves rushing to her ankles as she stood barefoot in the wet sand. “I can hear the ocean!” It was the most perfectly ridiculous thing that Eleanor had ever heard, and she quickly beckoned her husband to snap a picture. And now the moment was forever frozen in time.

She fingered the frame and sighed, glancing around. The curtains were drawn, as they always were at night, and she could see a bit of orange poking out from the streetlight. She considered going to Julia’s room, to check up on her, but just the thought of that made Eleanor shiver.

No.

She would let Julia sleep in peace. Besides, she wouldn’t be able to help her anyway. Julia was drugged up on cough syrup and pills already. No, Eleanor’s place was back in her husband’s room. There, the blankets were warm and his thick musty smell engulfed the room. That was where she belonged. She shivered again and began to tiptoe back to the room, but something made her hesitate.

She heard something.

At first, she thought she was just imagining the noise. It wasn’t very loud, only a faint buzzing in her ears, and the sound was familiar, something she had heard many times before but had forgotten. It was a strange sound, more of a rhythm than an actual melody, though she guessed that if she listened harder, she might be able to recognize the tune. She frowned.

It reminded her of the times she had gotten songs playing endlessly in her head. But unlike those times, where the sound seemed to play in her head, this song came from the outside, somewhere. The more she tried to ignore it, the more she heard it, pulsing through her entire body. She could feel it getting closer, and the moonlight seemed to intensify, the small orange streetlight waning through the curtain.

Her lips trembled, but she forced herself to stand up straight. Then, very slowly, she crept to the curtain, her hands shaking as they grasped the rough fabric. She forced herself to breathe deeply in, her breath automatically in sync with the pulsing beat she heard from outside. She sighed, her hand relaxing. She could still hear the snoring from the other room, and she forced herself to breathe in sync with that. Suddenly, she jerked open the curtains. And then she gasped.

She saw a unicorn.

At first, Eleanor just stared. She wanted to believe that it was just a white deer, or maybe a horse, but something about this beast was so different from either, so lovely that the mere sight of it sent a surge of both panic and wild joy into her throat that…

She pressed her face close to the window and watched.

The unicorn was outside just below the streetlight, jumping up and down on her hind legs fighting off some invisible foes, twisting her head around so that her alicorn spun in the air, creating small white sparks. As Eleanor squinted, she realized that the unicorn was fighting (playing?) with the moths gathered near the dull orange streetlight. As the unicorn jumped up and sailed near the moths, the moths fluttered toward her, and then it was a race! The unicorn leapt, a look of ecstasy spread across her face as her neat cloven hooves kicked out into the air among the moths. And the more she jumped, the more the pulsing in Eleanor’s body throbbed until it became apparent that the pulsing was not her head or even her body, but her heart.

Eleanor wanted to meet her. She strained at the window, her breath fogging up the glass, until at last the music became too much, and she raced to the nearest door, stumbling out. It was dark – everywhere where unicorn didn’t touch was dark – but that didn’t stop her and she continued blindly on until at last, the light shone on brightly before her and she was close, very close, to the unicorn.

It was then where she regained her senses, and realized just how long and sharp the unicorn’s alicorn was and how strong and graceful the unicorn had kicked out as she had played (fought?) with the moths. And as these thoughts came across her mind, Eleanor realized how blind and ugly she was in the unicorn’s presence and how her knees trembled spastically.

The unicorn had stopped moving and she lightly stepped forward towards Eleanor, the blades of grass barely moving under the unicorn’s weight. Eleanor brushed off her flimsy pink nightgown, thick with the strange smell of sweat, soap, and axle grease.

“Have you come for me?”

The unicorn stopped and tilted her head. It was apparent from her soulful blue eyes that yes, she did understand Eleanor, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, Eleanor felt an uncomfortable tickle of joy rush through her body. She didn’t understand what it meant.

She tried again. “Have you come for me?” Somewhere in the back of her mind, a spot of information about unicorn lore sprang up. “I’m not a virgin, you know.” Her voice wavered as she said this, but the unicorn only seemed to smile at her words.

It was quiet for a moment and Eleanor nervously patted down her hair, so it wasn’t so wild. She paused, waiting for the unicorn to speak. Her knees felt weak.

“Perhaps you want to see my daughter?” she finally asked, her voice soft and breathless. “She is sick. If you want to, you can help her.”

But as she said this, she suddenly realized how foolish she sounded. Her daughter would get better. In a couple of days, Julia’s ears would drain, and she would hear even more than she had before. And when she would hear music, she would dance and sing again, as if nothing had happened.

She blushed furiously, but the unicorn didn’t move, her tail only swatting the moths away. She lowered her head to Eleanor, and Eleanor trembled, knowing that she had to go to her. She held out her hand and walked closer to the unicorn, her feet crunching into the grass. And finally her palms felt the slightest tickle of fur. She ran her hand along the unicorn’s cheeks first, and then let her palms rub over the unicorn’s eyes. The unicorn sighed, flicking her tail to the side, and Eleanor could feel a rush of joy and something else flow through her.

She frowned.

Finally, ever so slowly, she let her hand go to the unicorn’s forehead and traced the spiral upwards until she got to the very tip of the alicorn.

“You’re a real unicorn, aren’t you?”

The unicorn said nothing but bowed her head more, the tip of her alicorn hovering below Eleanor’s hand. At first she hesitated, but then she let her finger run along the very tip of the alicorn. And then she gasped.

She was bleeding.

Blood rushed out of her index finger, first only a couple of drops, but after a couple of seconds, it flowed like water. She stuck it her mouth to stop the bleeding, but that didn’t help any. The more she sucked on her finger, the more she felt the salty stickiness of her blood coat her mouth until at last she gasped and choked. Her knees buckled and she collapsed onto the crunchy grass.

And it hurt.

She glanced at her hand, which now lay in a puddle of blood on the lawn, and shivered. “You’ve killed me,” she murmured.

The unicorn frowned at this and lifted up her alicorn high, so that it would not touch Eleanor, and gently bent down to rub her furry cheek onto Eleanor’s finger. At first, this hurt even more, and it was all Eleanor could do but to hold onto the unicorn’s mane with her free hand, but eventually, the pain subsided and the most delicious sensation bubbled up in her. She smiled and took her finger off the unicorn’s cheek, inspecting it once more. It had healed completely, and even the scar from a wart she had since she was seven had disappeared. She flexed her hand experimentally and smiled, looking at the unicorn once more. A red star stained the unicorn’s cheek.

“What now?” she asked. The unicorn neighed slightly, moving her neck and shaking her head. She looked dazed at first, and Eleanor noticed how the lovely unicorn’s slender knees wobbled. She went to help her, but the unicorn just shook her away. In another minute, the unicorn reared up, giving out a neigh that sounded more like a roar, and raced away.

Eleanor couldn’t help herself – she stumbled after the unicorn, following the flickering white tail that lingered just ahead of her, a small beacon of light.

She ran and ran, chasing the unicorn’s tail, breathless, but happy. The rhythm pulsed all around her, keeping in time with her heartbeat, and off in the distance, she was sure she heard a melody, of some sort, though she wasn’t sure if it wasn’t the whistling in her ears as the wind rushed past, or something else. But that didn’t matter. Music or not, her bare feet thudded along the asphalt to the song, her laughter and gasps accompanying it.

There were only several times during the race where a feeling of hopelessness would come, and that was only when the unicorn disappeared behind a tree, and Eleanor couldn’t see her. But a moment later, the unicorn would always poke out from the brush and the chase continued in earnest. In this manner, they raced across town, from the suburban playground to the downtown pet store, and even across the office park.

It was just outside of a fast-food restaurant where Eleanor finally caught up with the unicorn. She crashed into her, barreling her head into the unicorn’s soft belly, and both of them fell, a tangle of fur and polyester. Eleanor giggled, though she hardly knew why, and rubbed her face on the unicorn’s belly, enjoying and the salty taste lingering on the unicorn’s fur and the satiny feel of each of the individual strands as they tickled her nose. The unicorn licked her ear gently and Eleanor smiled, a wild look coming into her eyes.

“I caught you,” Eleanor said, her voice breathless. “I caught you and now you have to do whatever I say.” The unicorn didn’t say anything to this. “Stand up.”

At first, Eleanor was afraid that the unicorn would not follow her directions and pierce her with that lovely alicorn, but the unicorn obediently stood up, looking down at Eleanor with a gentle patience. Eleanor scrambled up and mounted onto the unicorn, as if the unicorn were just a simple horse, letting her fingers twist around the unicorn’s lovely mane. “Let’s ride.”

The unicorn hesitated at her words, but a moment later, Eleanor felt the unicorn’s muscles tightened. The unicorn leapt forward, but it was much faster and farther than Eleanor had expected and if it weren’t for her fingers, twined deeply into the unicorn’s mane, she was sure she would have fallen off. Her stomach dropped and she pressed her cheek onto the unicorn’s neck, staring down. The world blurred beneath her.

It was only a couple of seconds, though it felt like an eternity, and when they landed, Eleanor felt a wave of relief wash over her. She was about to roll off, to tell the unicorn that she had enough, but before she could say anything, the unicorn leapt into the air again. And again. The next leap was just as bad, but by the third time, she enjoyed herself, her free hand reaching for the moon and the brilliant stars.

After the sixth leap, the unicorn stopped and Eleanor was exhausted. She was still happy, and the music pulsed stronger in her ears, but her mind spun with so many colors that she felt dizzy. She closed her eyes and sighed. Her white hands loosened and she slumped over, sliding off the unicorn’s smooth back.

She fell on something soft.

She wanted to sleep, but the unicorn nudged her awake, tickling her with her velvet muzzle. It was dark, and Eleanor first tried to turn away from the unicorn, but the unicorn only stepped over her, her alicorn gently tapping Eleanor’s eyelids.

Wake up.

But it wasn’t the unicorn that woke her up. No. The music was stronger here, and the steady rhythm throbbed in her ears and surrounded her. It didn’t sound like a heartbeat anymore. Instead it was a gentle breathing, and as every pulse came, a wave of salty moisture accompanied it, penetrating itself in every pore of her skin.

She yawned, stretching. As she lifted herself up, she noticed the ground slip by her fingers, shifting with every movement she put on it. Sand. She yawned again and brushed off her mouth, licking her chops when she was sure that all the sand grains had been knocked off. The air was thick and salty. It tasted like fish. Eleanor smiled and looked up at the unicorn, standing just above her.

“The ocean.”

The unicorn nodded and looked away from Eleanor, out to something else. Eleanor turned her head to follow the direction of the alicorn and smiled.

The ocean was black still, but the moonlight reflected on it, revealing small tiny white caps as the waves broke on the shore. Eleanor glanced over the waves briefly and then stared at the sky. The moon was still hanging in the sky, surrounded by dancing stars. She smiled. “It’s pretty.”

The unicorn said nothing to this. Instead, she nuzzled her blood-stained cheek into Eleanor’s shoulder and stepped out cautiously into the water. There, she turned back to Eleanor and gave a soft but urgent whinny. Eleanor frowned.

“What’s the matter?”

The unicorn looked to the ocean at first and then back to Eleanor, her face desperate. She lifted up her cloven hoof and pawed at the water. But something was wrong with her. Her cloven hoof, which had been so delicate before, started to melt into the water. She still could stand, as long as she was in the water, but no more could she walk on land. White capped waves tossed onto the shore, the little peaks like smooth horse heads, coming to the land. And suddenly Eleanor understood.

She stepped back.

“No.” The unicorn was still staring at her, with lovely blue eyes piercing through her. The unicorn was breathing heavily now and with every tremble of her ribs, another rush of unicorns came in at her delicate cloven hooves. The music was stronger now, and for the first time, Eleanor could hear the entire song in its entirety. The unicorns were singing the rhythm, and the stars were dancing to it, and the melody? The melody…

She was the melody.

“No,” she whispered, her lovely treble voice wavering in a vibrato. “No, you must understand. My daughter. My lovely daughter, Julia. She needs my help. And my husband! I can’t leave him.”

The waves (unicorns?) crashed on the shores again, this time circling around her ankles. But before going back, the waves tugged at the unicorn, her unicorn, and tried to drag her back into the sea as well. The unicorn, her unicorn, cried a sharp whinny and stumbled, desperately trying to stand. Eleanor trembled and almost stepped forward to the sea, to the music, to…

The unicorns (waves?) retreated and, for now, her unicorn was safe. But it was only temporarily, Eleanor knew. The tide was drifting away, and soon her unicorn would go away with it.

And she would never see her lovely unicorn again.

Eleanor closed her eyes tightly, trying to stifle her tears. “No, I can’t go, you must understand.” Her voice sounded strange and cracked. She stepped forward to the unicorn and put her arms around the unicorn’s neck, rubbing her face with the unicorn’s blood-stained cheek. “You must understand! I can’t leave. Not now. Not when I’m needed.”

Come follow me.

“No.”

It was barely a whisper, but Eleanor could see the unicorn shiver as she said this. She peered at Eleanor’s blotched face carefully before finally nodding, tears filling up her eyes. A strange choked whinny came from her, but she seemed to smile anyway, letting her alicorn stroke Eleanor’s cheek.

Eleanor shuddered and backed away.

She didn’t get far. She stared to the unicorn, her unicorn, twisting her hands together. The unicorn sighed and then bowed low, her body melting into the tide, and for a second, the two met again, the unicorn washing over Eleanor’s feet.

And then she was gone.

Wet sand clung to Eleanor’s ankles, even as she stumbled onto the dry loose sand. She was crying bitterly, tears pouring from her eyes, and it was all she could do but throw herself on the cold dry sand and bury her head in her arms. She cried for a long time – it felt like hours – but eventually, her body relaxed, with the lullaby from the unicorns rushing on the shore, and she fell asleep, her head pulsing with rhythm and her mind dancing with stars…

* * *

When she woke up, she was no longer by the beach. Instead, she was by the window, her head resting on the icy cold glass. She stood up and stretched, peeking outside. The sky was a faint blue and she knew that soon it would explode into colors, just as it always did. A new day would start and then night would follow and it would continue on and on…

So the unicorn had been just a dream.

She took a deep breath and sighed. She could still hear the pulsing rhythm pounding through her head, but the more she concentrated on it, the more it slipped away, like water through sand. She frowned and tried to hold on, but at that moment, a familiar smell wafted to her, one of sweat, soap, and axle grease. She forgot about the music immediately and smiled, her hands immediately brushing back her long, wild hair. She straightened her pink polyester nightgown before sneaking back to her husband’s room, little flecks of sand falling from her ankles.

Her mouth still tasted salty.

Comments & reviews · 20
Note: You are not logged in, but you can still leave a comment or review. Before it shows up, a moderator will need to approve your comment (this is only a safeguard against spambots). Leave your email if you would like to be notified when your message is approved.

User avatar
Snoink
Comment

Thanks for all the comments!

Updated version:


The Lady and the Unicorn



Eleanor liked the way her husband smelled. It was a strange mixture of sweat, soap, and axle grease, from working on cars all day long. Now he was asleep, his damp hair ruffled by the pillowcase. He had been tossing and turning, and from the soft moonlight that stole through the blinds, she could see that his face had turned rigid. He was clenching his teeth.

She brushed her hand over his ears, letting her fingers comb through his thin hair. He moved slightly at her touch, and for a moment she thought he would wake up.

“Love?” she murmured. Her voice sounded half-asleep.

Still, he smiled and turned towards her. A gentle snore came from him, vibrating the walls of the room, followed by another of even greater proportions. She listened to him for a minute, letting her breathing fall in sync with his snoring.

“Love?” she murmured again. Her lips trembled. “I can’t sleep.”

Her voice was soft, too soft to wake him up, but that was okay. She didn’t want to disturb him. He had gone to bed early, sleeping from a hard day’s work, and soon he would wake up again, only to work another day and come back home, coated with new stains and smells from his job. Every night, he would wash himself, scrubbing his oily, dark skin into a soft pink. The stains always disappeared, but the smell never seemed to wash away.

His face was passive and so at ease that she couldn’t resist smiling, reaching out to stroke his cheek. Her fingers bumped along the bristles of his unshaven face. “I think I had a bad day,” she admitted in a whisper, leaning closer to him so her face nearly touched his. “I took Julia to the doctor today. She has an ear infection. But the insurance won’t pay for the medicine the doctor prescribed. They say it’s nothing. They say that she’ll get better. But I know she won’t.”

He gave a louder snore than usual.

She shivered and sat up quickly, afraid of waking him up, but after a moment, his body relaxed. Once more, she hovered just above his face, brushing back her long hair so it fell back. “She’s deaf. She can barely hear what I say. You remember how she loved music, more than anything? She can’t hear it. It’s nothing to her.”

Her voice felt raw, and besides, she was getting too shrill anyway. She stopped talking and rubbed her throat instead. Once more she forced herself to breathe with his snoring.

For a minute, all she concentrated on was him and soon she felt her eyes close. Colors began to play across her eyelids, green and yellow dots dancing in front of a black curtain. Once more, she snuggled beside him, burying her head into fleece blanket, and sighed.

She might have fallen asleep, but a second later, a sharp whistle came out from her husband instead of the usual snore. She jerked up and gave a cry, clutching the blankets around her tightly. Then, after realizing what the whistle was and how loud she must have cried, she clamped a hand over her mouth, her face turning red.

But her husband didn’t hear her and the snoring continued anew. Except now she couldn’t sleep.

Eleanor listened to him for several more minutes and tried to keep quiet. She rocked back and forth, shivering, her hands rubbing her sleek polyester sleeves of her old nightgown. There she stayed until finally a sick lurch came to her stomach. She leaned closer to her husband. “I think it’s much worse than just an ear infection,” she confessed. She reached out to touch her husband’s shoulders, but he turned away from her, rolling onto his other side. He stopped snoring.

Though she knew that he was only asleep and he would not be able to hear her anyway, a terrible pang of loneliness hit her. She crawled off the bed and stood up, her pink nightgown a pale gray. She shivered and cast a glance at her husband. He was huddled in his blankets, fast asleep, only the tiniest bit of his face showing. In the moonlight, he looked like a ghost.

For a moment, she just stood there, watching him. Then, carefully so she would not wake him, she crept out of the room and into the hallway.

In the daylight, the hallway was a multitude of bright colors, from the family photos that hung neatly on the walls to the blue shag carpets covering the oak floor. But now at night, the moon cast an eerie glow on everything so that the colors were weird and distorted. She blinked, adjusting her eyes to the pale light, and tiptoed through the hallway, her fingers trailing over the frames and faces of her family.

Usually when she looked at the photographs, the first thing she noticed was her husband’s beaming face, which she found handsome, even after seven years of marriage. But now, Julia’s face poked out. In all the pictures, she was smiling as she always did, as a three year old was supposed to smile, though the moonlight twisted the picture, making her face strangely pale. Still, a smile flickered on Eleanor’s face as she stared at the pictures. There was Julia as she first walked. Julia, being kissed by her father, who had a dark oil stain on his nose. Julia, playing with a stuffed doggy. Julia…

But the photograph that attracted Eleanor the most was the one with her by the ocean. Julia was holding up a conch shell to her ear and had the most surprised, most delighted look on her face. “Look Mommy!” Julia had cried, just before the picture had been taken, small waves rushing to her ankles as she stood barefoot in the wet sand. “I can hear the ocean!” It was the most perfectly ridiculous thing that Eleanor had ever heard, and she quickly beckoned her husband to snap a picture. And now the moment was forever frozen in time.

She fingered the frame and sighed, glancing around. The curtains were drawn, as they always were at night, and she could see a bit of orange poking out from the streetlight. She considered going to Julia’s room, to check up on her, but just the thought of that made Eleanor shiver.

No.

She would let Julia sleep in peace. Besides, she wouldn’t be able to help her anyway. Julia was drugged up on cough syrup and pills already. No, Eleanor’s place was back in her husband’s room. There, the blankets were warm and his thick musty smell engulfed the room. That was where she belonged. She shivered again and began to tiptoe back to the room, but something made her hesitate.

She heard something.

At first, she thought she was just imagining the noise. It wasn’t very loud, only a faint throbbing in her ears, and if it weren’t so cold and strange in the deserted hallway, she guessed she might have missed it entirely. Still, as the pulse echoed across the hallway, interrupting the gentle snores of her husband, she felt a strange mixture of fear and joy rush through her.

She frowned.

It reminded her of the times she had gotten songs playing endlessly in her head. But unlike those times, where the sound seemed to play in her head, this song came from the outside, somewhere. And though this music was strange, more of a rhythm than an actual melody, there was something familiar about it.

As she stood there listening to it, the music swelled, its pulse ringing through her entire body. She could feel it getting closer, and the moonlight seemed to intensify, the small orange streetlight waning through the curtain.

Her lips trembled and she could feel her knees begin to wobble, but she forced herself to stand up straight. Then, very slowly, she crept to the curtain, her hands shaking as they grasped the seams of the rough fabric. For a minute, she forced herself to breathe deeply in, her breath automatically in sync with the pulsing beat she heard from outside. Finally, when she could bear it no longer, she jerked open the curtains. And then she gasped.

She saw a unicorn.

At first, Eleanor just stared. She wanted to believe that it was just a white deer, or maybe a horse, but something about this beast was so different from either, so lovely that the mere sight of it sent a surge of both panic and wild joy into her throat that…

She pressed her face close to the window and watched.

The unicorn was outside just below the streetlight, jumping up and down on her hind legs fighting off some invisible foes, twisting her head around so that her alicorn spun in the air, creating small white sparks. As Eleanor squinted, she realized that the unicorn was fighting (playing?) with the moths gathered near the dull orange streetlight. As the unicorn jumped up and sailed near the moths, the moths fluttered toward her, and then it was a race! The unicorn leapt, a look of ecstasy spread across her face as her neat cloven hooves kicked out into the air among the moths. And the more she jumped, the more the pulsing in Eleanor’s body throbbed until it became apparent that the pulsing was not her head or even her body, but her heart.

Eleanor wanted to meet her. She strained at the window, her breath fogging up the glass, until at last the music became too much, and she raced to the nearest door, stumbling out onto her front lawn. It was dark – everywhere where unicorn didn’t touch was dark – but that didn’t stop her and she continued blindly on until at last, the light shone on brightly before her and she was close, very close, to the unicorn.

It was then where she regained her senses, and realized just how long and sharp the unicorn’s alicorn was and how strong and graceful the unicorn had kicked out as she had played (fought?) with the moths. And as these thoughts came across her mind, Eleanor realized how blind and ugly she was in the unicorn’s presence and how her knees trembled spastically.

The unicorn had stopped moving and she lightly stepped forward towards Eleanor, the blades of grass barely moving under the unicorn’s weight. Eleanor brushed off her flimsy pink nightgown, thick with the strange smell of sweat, soap, and axle grease.

“Have you come for me?”

The unicorn stopped and tilted her head. It was apparent from her soulful blue eyes that yes, she did understand Eleanor, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, Eleanor felt an uncomfortable tickle of joy rush through her body. She didn’t understand what it meant.

She tried again. “Have you come for me?” Somewhere in the back of her mind, a spot of information about unicorn lore sprang up. “I’m not a virgin, you know.” Her voice wavered as she said this and suddenly she felt ashamed, but the unicorn only seemed to smile at her words.

It was quiet for a moment and Eleanor nervously patted down her hair, so it wasn’t so wild. She paused, waiting for the unicorn to speak. Her knees trembled.

“Perhaps you want to see my daughter?” she finally asked, her voice soft and breathless. “She is sick. If you want to, you can help her. Come! I’ll show you where she is.”

But the unicorn didn’t move and her lovely blue eyes remained impassive. A fresh wave of desperation hit Eleanor. “You don’t understand,” Eleanor whispered to the unicorn. “She can’t hear music.”

The unicorn snorted at this and then, as a response, stamped her tiny cloven hoof into the ground. A moment of silence elapsed and then suddenly an avalanche of music hit Eleanor, so strange and wild that she couldn’t help but hide her head, her fingers plugging up her ears. But the music was much too loud to ignore. She cried out desperately for it to stop, but her cry only added to the chord echoing out all around her. And then, suddenly, it was quiet.

She could still hear the music throbbing in her head, and it was a minute before she dared to unplug her ears. Her body was still trembling – it was impossible not to – but she didn’t know whether it was from excitement or anxiety. She cast an uncertain look at the unicorn, a blush suddenly spreading across her face, but the unicorn didn’t move, her tail only swatting the moths away.

“So this is music?” Eleanor rubbed her face and shivered. “I never heard anything like that before. I’m not quite sure I like it. But it was loud. Do you think Julia heard it?”

The unicorn tossed her mane into the air and neighed harshly. Eleanor backed away.

“Oh, what a silly question,” she muttered, twisting her hands together. “Of course she heard it. The music, that is. Didn’t she? It would be impossible not to hear it.”

Then why hadn’t Eleanor heard it before…?

A gentle look came into the unicorn’s eyes. She pawed the ground again and lowered her head submissively to Eleanor.

Come to me.

Eleanor hesitated at first, but the more she resisted the unicorn, the more her heartbeat pulsed until she thought she would die if she could never meet the unicorn. Her knees buckled and finally, when she could bear it no longer, she stumbled blindly towards the unicorn, her bare feet crunching into the grass.

It seemed to take forever, but finally Eleanor felt her soft fur tickling her fingertips. She laughed and wrapped her arms around the unicorn’s neck, burying her hands into the mane. The mane flowed like white liquid over her fingers.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered.

The unicorn sighed, flicking her tail. Her eyes fluttered close and, carefully so she would not hurt Eleanor with her long, spiraling alicorn, she rubbed her cheek on Eleanor’s. Instantly a rush of joy flowed through her.

She frowned.

Eleanor stepped away from the unicorn, looking down at her critically. Finally, ever so slowly, she let her hand go to the unicorn’s forehead and traced the spiral upwards until she got to the very tip of the alicorn.

“You’re a real unicorn, aren’t you?”

The unicorn said nothing but bowed her head more, the tip of her alicorn hovering below Eleanor’s hand. At first she hesitated, but then she let her finger run along the very tip of the alicorn. And then she gasped.

She was bleeding.

Blood rushed out of her index finger, first only a couple of drops, but after a couple of seconds, it flowed like water. She stuck it her mouth to stop the bleeding, but that didn’t help any. The more she sucked on her finger, the more she felt the salty stickiness of her blood coat her mouth until at last she gasped and choked. Her knees buckled and she collapsed onto the crunchy grass.

And it hurt.

She glanced at her hand, which now lay in a puddle of blood on the lawn, and shivered. “You’ve killed me,” she murmured.

The unicorn frowned at this and lifted up her alicorn high, so that it would not touch Eleanor, and gently bent down to rub her furry cheek onto Eleanor’s finger. At first, this hurt even more, and it was all Eleanor could do but to hold onto the unicorn’s mane with her free hand, but eventually, the pain subsided and the most delicious sensation bubbled up in her. She smiled and took her finger off the unicorn’s cheek, inspecting it once more. It had healed completely, and even the scar from a wart she had since she was seven had disappeared. She flexed her hand experimentally and smiled, looking at the unicorn once more. A red star stained the unicorn’s cheek.

“What now?” she asked. The unicorn neighed slightly, moving her neck and shaking her head. She looked dazed at first, and Eleanor noticed how the lovely unicorn’s slender knees wobbled. She went to help her, but the unicorn just shook her away. In another minute, the unicorn reared up, giving out a neigh that sounded more like a roar, and raced away.

Eleanor couldn’t help herself – she stumbled after the unicorn, following the flickering white tail that lingered just ahead of her, a small beacon of light.

She ran and ran, chasing the unicorn’s tail, breathless, but happy. The rhythm pulsed all around her, keeping in time with her heartbeat, and off in the distance, she was sure she heard a melody, of some sort, though she wasn’t sure if it wasn’t the whistling in her ears as the wind rushed past or something else. But that didn’t matter. Music or not, her bare feet thudded along the asphalt to the song, her laughter and gasps accompanying it.

There were only several times during the race where a feeling of hopelessness came, and that was only when the unicorn disappeared behind a tree, and Eleanor couldn’t see her. But a moment later, the unicorn poked out from the brush and the chase continued in earnest. In this manner, they raced across town, from the suburban playground to the downtown pet store, and even across the office park.

It was just outside of a fast-food restaurant where Eleanor finally caught up with the unicorn. She crashed into her, barreling her head into the unicorn’s soft belly, and both of them fell, a tangle of fur and polyester. Eleanor giggled, though she hardly knew why, and rubbed her face on the unicorn’s belly, enjoying and the salty taste lingering on the unicorn’s fur and the satiny feel of each of the individual strands as they tickled her nose. The unicorn licked her ear gently and Eleanor smiled, a wild look coming into her eyes.

“I caught you,” Eleanor said, her voice breathless. “I caught you and now you have to do whatever I say.” The unicorn didn’t say anything to this. “Stand up.”

At first, Eleanor was afraid that the unicorn would not follow her directions and pierce her with that lovely alicorn, but the unicorn obediently stood up, looking down at Eleanor with a gentle patience. Eleanor scrambled up and mounted onto the unicorn, as if the unicorn were just a simple horse, letting her fingers twist around the unicorn’s lovely mane. “Let’s ride.”

The unicorn hesitated at her words, but a moment later, Eleanor felt the unicorn’s muscles tightened. The unicorn leapt forward, but it was much faster and farther than Eleanor had expected and if it weren’t for her fingers, twined deeply into the unicorn’s mane, she was sure she would have fallen off. Her stomach dropped and she pressed her cheek onto the unicorn’s neck, staring down. The world blurred beneath her.

It was only a couple of seconds, though it felt like an eternity, and when they landed, Eleanor felt a wave of relief wash over her. She was about to roll off, to tell the unicorn that she had enough, but before she could say anything, the unicorn leapt into the air again. And again. The next leap was just as bad, but by the third time, she enjoyed herself, her free hand reaching for the moon and the brilliant stars.

After the sixth leap, the unicorn stopped and Eleanor was exhausted. She was still happy, and the music pulsed stronger in her ears, but her mind spun with so many colors that she felt dizzy. She closed her eyes and sighed. Her white hands loosened and she slumped over, sliding off the unicorn’s smooth back.

She fell on something soft.

She wanted to sleep, but the unicorn nudged her awake, tickling her with her velvet muzzle. It was dark, and Eleanor first tried to turn away from the unicorn, but the unicorn only stepped over her, her alicorn gently tapping Eleanor’s eyelids.

Wake up.

But it wasn’t the unicorn that woke her up. No. The music was stronger here, and the steady rhythm throbbed in her ears and surrounded her. It didn’t sound like a heartbeat anymore. Instead it was a gentle breathing, and as every pulse came, a wave of salty moisture accompanied it, penetrating itself in every pore of her skin.

She yawned, stretching. As she lifted herself up, she noticed the ground slip by her fingers, shifting with every movement she put on it. Sand. She yawned again and brushed off her mouth, tiny grains falling from her lips. The air was thick and salty. It tasted like fish. Eleanor smiled and looked up at the unicorn, standing just above her.

“The ocean.”

The unicorn nodded and looked away from Eleanor, out to something else. Eleanor turned her head to follow the direction of the alicorn and smiled.

The ocean was black still, but the moonlight reflected on it, revealing small tiny white caps as the waves broke on the shore. Eleanor glanced over the waves briefly and then stared at the sky. The moon was still hanging in the sky, surrounded by dancing stars. She smiled. “It’s pretty.”

The unicorn said nothing to this. Instead, she nuzzled her blood-stained cheek into Eleanor’s shoulder and stepped out cautiously into the water. There, she turned back to Eleanor and gave a soft but urgent whinny. Eleanor frowned.

“What’s the matter?”

The unicorn looked to the ocean at first and then back to Eleanor, her face desperate. She lifted up her cloven hoof and pawed at the water. But something was wrong with her. Her delicate cloven hoof started to melt into the water. She still could stand, as long as she was in the water, but no more could she walk on land. White capped waves tossed onto the shore, the little peaks like smooth horse heads, coming to the land. And suddenly Eleanor understood.

She stepped back.

“No,” she murmured slowly.

The unicorn was still staring at her, her lovely blue eyes piercing through Eleanor. With every tremble of her ribs came another rush of waves (unicorns?) at her delicate cloven hooves. The music was stronger now, and for the first time, Eleanor could hear the entire song in its entirety. The unicorns were singing the rhythm, and the stars were dancing to it, and the melody? The melody…

She was the melody.

“No,” she whispered, her lovely treble voice wavering in a vibrato. “No, you must understand. My daughter. My lovely daughter, Julia. She needs my help. And my husband! I can’t leave him.”

The unicorns (waves?) crashed on the shores again, this time circling around her ankles. But before going back, the waves tugged at the unicorn, her unicorn, and tried to drag her back into the sea as well. The unicorn, her unicorn, cried a sharp whinny and stumbled, desperately trying to stand. Eleanor trembled and almost stepped forward to the sea, to the music, to…

The unicorns retreated and, for now, her unicorn was safe. But it was only temporarily, Eleanor knew. The tide was drifting away, and soon her unicorn would go away with it.

And she would never see her lovely unicorn again.

Eleanor closed her eyes tightly, trying to stifle her tears. “No, I can’t go, you must understand.” Her voice sounded strange and cracked. She stepped forward to the unicorn and put her arms around the unicorn’s neck, rubbing her face with the unicorn’s blood-stained cheek. “You must understand! I can’t leave. Not now. Not when I’m needed.”

Come follow me.

“No.”

It was barely a whisper, but Eleanor could see the unicorn shiver as she said this. She peered at Eleanor’s blotched face carefully before finally nodding, tears filling up her eyes. A strange choked whinny came from her, but she seemed to smile anyway, letting her alicorn stroke Eleanor’s cheek.

Eleanor shuddered and backed away.

She didn’t get far. She stared to the unicorn, her unicorn, twisting her hands together. The unicorn sighed and then bowed low, her body melting into the tide, and for a second, the two met again, the unicorn washing over Eleanor’s feet.

And then she was gone.

Wet sand clung to Eleanor’s ankles, even as she stumbled onto the dry loose sand. She was crying bitterly, tears pouring from her eyes, and it was all she could do but throw herself on the cold dry sand and bury her head in her arms. She cried for a long time – it felt like hours – but eventually, her body relaxed, with the lullaby from the unicorns rushing on the shore, her head pulsing with rhythm and her mind dancing with stars…

Then, slowly, the sand melted away and in its place, she felt her cold fingers clutching soft shag carpets instead. And though her lips still tasted salty, a familiar smell wafted to her, one of sweat, soap, and axle grease. In the back of her mind, she could still hear the pulsing rhythm pounding through her head, but the more she concentrated on it, the more it slipped away, like water through sand. The music was replaced by her husband’s monotonous snoring.

She smiled and fell asleep.

User avatar
Crysi
Review
Crysi wrote a review · Sat Sep 30, 2006 11:02 pm

Ooh, this reminds me of a story I read when I was younger... I can't remember the title, but it had the same idea of unicorns and the ocean.

Anyway.

I have to admit I avoided this story at first, only because of the title. I knew you weren't the type to write a cheesy fantasy story, so I finally read it.

I'm glad I did.

I'm gonna nitpick a few parts, then I have to start on English homework again (or, more likely, I'll be playing solitaire for a while and staring at my story).

The unicorn had stopped moving and she lightly stepped forward towards Eleanor, the blades of grass barely moving under the unicorn’s weight.


I wasn't aware of the fact that they were on grass... I suppose I assumed they were on the road. Hmm.

“No.” The unicorn was still staring at her, with lovely blue eyes piercing through her. The unicorn was breathing heavily now and with every tremble of her ribs, another rush of unicorns came in at her delicate cloven hooves.


Two things about this part. 1) My creative writing teacher would tell you that dialogue from one character should be separate from the actions of another character. 2) It took me a while to realize that you hadn't made a mistake by typing "unicorns" instead of "waves." While I really like the effect after reading the whole piece (it seems more dream-like), it was still awkward when first reading it.

I briefly wondered if this was allegory, but for now I think it's just a nice little fairytale. The fact that she thought she had heard the melody before made me think she was returning to innocence, in a way. I really like both the beginning and the ending - both are fantastic. It was really cool to read a grown-up story involving a unicorn. :) Bravissimo.

User avatar
Snoink
Comment

Hehe! Yes, I am very good at missing words. It's an adventure whenever I read my novel since every once and a while, I get these "WTF" moments where I accidently forgot too many words. It's funny. ^_^

Ah... the sand. Yeah, I see what you're saying. Of course, I'll probably have to edit the ending scene entirely for la maestra, but... yeah. :)

Thanks for the comments! :D

User avatar
aeroman
Review
aeroman wrote a review · Sat Sep 30, 2006 5:52 pm

I loved the story snoink, it felt like you were leading me along with a little thread, haha. Your descriptions were very vivid to me and I really could feel Eleanor's feelings about her daughter becoming deaf. I felt very sympathetic the whole story towards her plight. Also you did a wonderful job with the unicorn, your descriptions were awesome, with the unicorns being the waves, and then how Eleanor didn't know whether the unicorn was playing for fighting. It was all very good!

On a side note I did find two things that just didn't seem to flow for me.

Snoink wrote:The Lady and the Unicorn
Eleanor listened to him for several more minutes and tried to keep quiet. She rocked and forth, shivering, her hands rubbing her sleek polyester sleeves of her old nightgown.


You should make it She rocked back and forth. That was probably just a minor mistake though that everyone makes in their pieces. :)

Snoink wrote:The Lady and the Unicorn
Sand. She yawned again and brushed off her mouth, licking her chops when she was sure that all the sand grains had been knocked off.


This one is more of an opinion, you said licking her chops, to me that just sounds like a dog and goes out of context of the story. I would just change it to, Sand. She yawned again and brushed her mouth, making sure that all the grains had been knocked off. Also I got rid of the second sand, in my suggestion, we already know its sand, because you just said sand a line before.

Overall I loved your piece. Great job! :D

User avatar
Snoink
Comment

Hehe, sorry to bug you again, but I got the critique from my teacher. Yay? Yay! Anyway, this is what she had to say to it.

Wet sand clung to Eleanor’s ankles, even as she stumbled onto the dry loose sand. She was crying bitterly, tears pouring from her eyes, and it was all she could do but throw herself on the cold dry sand and bury her head in her arms. She cried for a long time – it felt like hours – but eventually, her body relaxed, with the lullaby from the unicorns rushing on the shore, and she fell asleep, her head pulsing with rhythm and her mind dancing with stars…


You might consider ending it here... with maybe just a visual clue it is a dream. We know this, but it is more than a dream, it is "a wish her heart makes" as the song goes.



So...! What do you guys think? ^_^;;

User avatar
Snoink
Comment

Hehe! Nah, it's probably not just you. The only problem is I'm not quite sure how to fix it and make it sparklier. *sighs*

I'll figure out something...

Haha... FREAK's not my normal writing style. My normal writing style is what you see here, both on YWS and my blog -- lots of smilies and colloquial phrases that don't really make sense. XD

So yeah. My stories vary on how the main character wants the story to be told. The freak doesn't really care about trivial words or lush description. In "Death Parlor," Nancy wanted a pleasant story. In this one, Eleanor wanted to be able to touch beauty, if only this once. Thus the lush description. :)

Haha... I am so schizophrenic at times. :P

And eek! Someone who didn't like unicorns? Man, I was OBSESSED with them when I was a wee age. Really. *shakes head*

But thanks for reading and commenting! :D

User avatar
Areida
Review
Areida wrote a review · Mon Sep 25, 2006 10:06 pm

Oooh, Snoink, it's pretty and sparkly!!!

This seemed very different from your normal writing style, but maybe I'm just used to FREAK's bluntness. There was a lot more pretty, flowy description in here that was quite lovely.

I never really had a thing for unicorns like a lot of little girls do; they were just white horses with this random horn stuck in the middle of their heads - what was the big deal?

But this was great. I don't really have any specific nitpicks; everything flowed nicely and, all in all, it was a very enjoyable read. If I find something on another read-through I'll be sure to point it out. XD

User avatar
Cassandra
Comment

I dunno. The whole "I caught you" thing just seemed kind of sudden for some reason...? I'm not really sure. Maybe if you said something when Eleanor first started to chase the unicorn? I guess I just interpreted it as that she was simply chasing the unicorn for the heck of it. But when you gave her a purpose at the end I was kind of thrown off a bit and confused.

But I'm slow. So maybe it's just me. XD

User avatar
Snoink
Comment

OMG! CASSANDRA LIKED MY STORY! *runs around babbling and hits into wall*

Er... yeah. YAY!

For the first part (the thingy about the virgins) thought the same thing, it being awkward, that is. I'm glad that someone else saw that too! ^_^ Now, to fix! :D

As for the other thing ("I caught you") I though it was more instinctive than anything. Like, the unicorn was helpless under her graps and a rush of power entered her head. Or something...

*brain explodes*

User avatar
Cassandra
Review

Such an enjoyable read. This has a fantasy, magical feel to it because of the unicorn, but at the same time it's so eerie and mysterious. I can't wait to see what else you do with this.

I also really liked when you did the whole fighting/playing and unicorns/waves thing in the parentheses. That was pretty darn cool. :D

And her daughter's deafness--very well done. You could have done something like, "Oh, she's dying of cancer," but this, for me, made both Eleanor and Julia much more sympathetic. I'm not really sure how to explain it, but I guess that a little girl no longer being able to listen to music seems a lot more sadder to me than someone who's dying. Maybe because the child will have to suffer the rest of their life because or her disability? Yeah.

My only suggestion would be to kind of clarify Eleanor's statement of how she's not a virgin, and also that because she caught the unicorn it has to do what she wants. I'm sure you'll expand upon this more as you get into the story, but it seems maybe you should add something in there that explains how she knows this.

"I caught you," Eleanor said, her voice breathless. "I caught you and now you have to do whatever I say."


^But how does she know this? Did she hear it in a story once? Is it common knowledge?

But that's my only complaint. The rest was flawless--or as close to perfection as you can get, in my books!

User avatar
Snoink
Comment

Ahhh... well, hopefully my creative writing teacher will help me with that paragraph, though I think she'll be kept pleasantly busy by the other writers in our class. O_o

Thanks again so much! And I'm glad you liked the new revisions. :)

User avatar
Poor Imp
Review

Just as David...I read most of it earlier - and it does come out much more neatly with the revision. In particular, Eleanor's first notice of the unicorn is cleaner; fits better, I think. ^_^

I ought to critique in full. But I'm coughing all over and my fencing coach will, er, take a sabre to me if she finds I've not been convalescing to be well for the coming tourney... !_!

The unicorn was outside just below the streetlight, jumping up and down on her hind legs fighting off some invisible foes, twisting her head around so that her alicorn spun in the air, creating small white sparks. As Eleanor squinted, she realized that the unicorn was fighting (playing?) with the moths gathered near the dull orange streetlight. As the unicorn jumped up and sailed near the moths, the moths fluttered toward her, and then it was a race! The unicorn leapt, a look of ecstasy spread across her face as her neat cloven hooves kicked out into the air among the moths. And the more she jumped, the more the pulsing in Eleanor’s body throbbed until it became apparent that the pulsing was not her head or even her body, but her heart.


This paragraph though stuck out from the rest, a little jarring for the use of the word unicorn so many times. Perhaps it jarred more because of sentence structure? 'The unicorn -- the unicorn -- the unicorn...'?

I like the image of unicorn and moths....

Anyhow, I hope to be back to remark more on it. The first bit, Eleanor and her husband - the conflict of sleeplessness and her whispering immediately engaged me. ^_^

User avatar
Snoink
Comment

Poe? He's a little wordy, lol. But I don't know! Maybe so?

Hey... that rhymes!

And thank you very much. It's good to know that my day was not spent in vain. :)

User avatar
Meshugenah
Comment

Yay! Mucho better.

Of course, I'll come back tomorrow (three [s]days[/s] weeks) and tell you it can be better, but that's my job.

But the sparkles!

I didn't say it before, but I love the last line. It's so... I want to say Poe, but I think I have the wrong author. ah well, I'll remember at two in the morning, and call [s]you[/s] Crysi and tell [s]you[/s] her. Sound good?

But oh! It gave me chills.

User avatar
Snoink
Comment

Thank you very much! I've been working on this quite a bit today, and any comments are much appreciated. :D

Well done, Snoink! This is so bizarre...but well conceived and executed. It's much improved from earlier today; it's more realistic in context.

(Hopefully, I'll be back later to fully critique this.)

User avatar
Snoink
Comment

OKAY! I cleaned up some of the suckitude and made it more sparkly. Better?

User avatar
Snoink
Comment

*glee*

So basically what you wrote in your critique was that this part...

She saw a unicorn.

The unicorn was outside just below the streetlight, jumping up and down on her hind legs fighting off some invisible foes, twisting her head around so that her alicorn spun in the air, creating small white sparks. As Eleanor squinted, she realized that the unicorn was fighting (playing?) with the moths gathered near the dull orange streetlight. As the unicorn jumped up and sailed near the moths, the moths fluttered toward her, and then it was a race! The unicorn leapt, her neat cloven hooves kicking out into the air among the moths, a look of ecstasy on her face. And the more she jumped, the more the pulsing in Eleanor’s body throbbed until it became apparent that the pulsing was not her head or even her body, but her heart.


...didn't make sense because it was out of character. It's stupid that Eleanor, so worried about the present, would simply accept the unicorn as a unicorn without any resistance.

Right? :D

User avatar
Meshugenah
Review

NOOOOOOOOO! *stabs computer* I had something written, and it went POOF! Gone.

meh.

So! To summarize what i had in what I had hoped was a relatively helpful crit: don't make the unicorn's appearance make the reader go wft? Either WTF????!!! or segue nicely. Ok?

Maybe I'll re-type the entire thing later, once I'm done sulking 'cause I lost it.

And oh yeah, I like this. Creepy, but i like it.



We think in generalities, but we live in details.
— Alfred North Whitehead