Tag: unicorn

The Muddy Unicorn

by Mary E. Lowd

A Deep Sky Anchor Original

“Alivia thought she would have liked being a frog.  They spent a lot more time in the water than she did.”

The sky was a the kind of empty blue that foretells a sunny, uneventful day, as untouched by actual weather as a day can be.  Alivia couldn’t stand it.  She wanted to frolic in mud puddles, dancing under the droplets of a gusting storm.  She wanted to prance and twirl on her cloven hooves, shake raindrops from her snowy mane like a waterfall, and spear the thorn-sharp tip of her horn into as many individual drops of water as she could.  She wanted to play rainy day games.

Alivia was a unicorn who loved the rain. Continue reading “The Muddy Unicorn”

A Pearl for Amelie

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Kaleidotrope, September 2016

“… I couldn’t use her work anymore. She wasn’t performing serious research. She was making up tales of unicorns.”

The letter was sealed and stamped but had never been sent.  Amelie almost passed it over entirely while going through her aunt’s old boxes of science articles and research notes.  It was addressed to a professor at the University of Crosshatch, Maryland.  Amelie didn’t think her aunt had ever worked there, but Aunt Jill had traveled a lot.  She’d studied giraffes in Africa and wild horses in the Gobi Desert.  She’d worked her way across Europe studying the few remaining bison, all kept in zoos.  It seemed like there was nowhere Aunt Jill hadn’t been, so Amelie couldn’t be sure. Continue reading “A Pearl for Amelie”

Sarah Flowermane and the Unicorn

by Mary E. Lowd

A Deep Sky Anchor Original, September 2022

“I want to grow a mane,” Sarah stated simply. “A mane of flowers. I know you have magic. Can you help me?”

The lion cub hid among the rushes and narcissus flowers at the edge of the lake and watched her father, King of the Jungle, meet and talk with the shining white unicorn who presided over the deep dark woods adjacent to the lions’ sunny savannah home.

Sarah thought the unicorn’s forest looked more like a jungle than their savannah did, and she wanted to tell the unicorn that… but she’d promised her father to hide quietly during his meeting.  He only brought one cub with him at a time to these meetings, and given her plethora of sisters, brothers, half-siblings, and cousins, Sarah’s turn to accompany her father didn’t turn up very often.  She wanted to prove she could be a good little cub, so she stayed quiet as a mouse. Continue reading “Sarah Flowermane and the Unicorn”

The Unicorn Keeper

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Theme of Absence, January 2020

“If I try to lay down limits, she stops eating and her ethereal glow — silver like moonlight — fades to a sickly, flickering shade — gray like a staticky television screen.”

Amalioona prances into the stables, her tufted hooves gleaming. They are the same sparkling shade of white as a hillside of snow in the sun. They are dainty, perfect unicorn hooves. How is it, then, that she always seems to clumsily knock over the slop bucket — no matter where I put it — and kick up the fresh hay into a veritable dust storm? Continue reading “The Unicorn Keeper”

Feral Unicorn

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Luna Station Quarterly, December 2015

“The snowy whiteness of his fur and the pearlescent shine of his horn bespoke purity, but I could swear the bastard was glaring at me.”

As I brought the mug of fresh-brewed coffee to my lips, the steaming liquid froze solid.  Startled by the sudden coldness in my hand, I dropped the mug.  The handle broke off when it hit the linoleum floor.  To make matters worse, the magic wore off almost instantly, and the mug-shaped block of coffee-ice promptly melted, puddling on the floor. Continue reading “Feral Unicorn”

Hot Chocolate for the Unicorn

by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Untied Shoelaces of the Mind, March 2012

“”You always want a story,” the Dragon snarls. The Unicorn shies away from him, but he’s not really scared. The Unicorn and Dragon are the best of friends. My best friends.”

The curved neck and stretched wings of the black Dragon dwarf the figure of the doe-like white Unicorn.  They make an unlikely picture behind the glass panel and aluminum frame of my sliding glass kitchen door.  As always, quite the sight to see.  I ask them in.

Continue reading “Hot Chocolate for the Unicorn”

The Carousel of Spirits

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Sorcerous Signals, February 2014

“When the first star appeared in the purple sky, the stillness in the room changed. Wooden bodies that had stood stiff all day shifted, flexing muscles, drawing in breaths through carved nostrils.”

The carousel turned, and Artie watched the ponies go by.  He shifted his weight as he sat on the green, metal frame bench.  It was one of many around the edges of the giant, window-walled room that housed the carousel.  Artie was beginning to think that he should upgrade the benches.  These ones looked nice, but they weren’t easy on an old man’s back. Continue reading “The Carousel of Spirits”

Cyclops on Safari

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published by Penn Cove Literary Arts Award, June 2013

“He peeked out the window again and sneered at the pathetic unicorn horns. Those simple spikes were nothing to the beautiful branching of a moose’s antlers.”

The little boy pressed his nose up against the minivan window, twisting himself up under his seatbelt.  He strained his one eye, trying to peer all the way across the golden field littered with shiny white unicorns, gamboling and playing, their manes rippling in the wind.  Danny was sure that if his parents would just let him roll down the window so he could stick his head out, he’d be able to make out a moose in the forest edge beyond.  Instead, all he could see was stupid unicorns. Continue reading “Cyclops on Safari”