We often have interesting visitors during the night. Shy creatures with big eyes imbued with whirling pools of unfathomable depths. It is said, you are not supposed to look into them for fear they might steal your soul and leave you lost in a black fog like Alzheimer’s. I definitely wouldn’t want that, but I have to admit, I look into those whirling pools anyway.
The first creature had a hitch in its giddy-up. It was gangly and undefinable as to whether it was man or animal. It reminded me of a girl I once knew that had been born with a deformed nose and arms that ended at the elbow with only a thumb. To my friends, this girl was considered a cripple. They had an obsessive need to tease or feel sorry for her, but when I observed her, I saw something a much different, I observed a heroic being of great courage and inner strength. She demanded neither abuse nor pity, she glowed with the same fierce self-determinism that I could see emanating from this physically deprived creature of the night. As we looked at each other, I had no reason to feel sympathy nor discomfort, it apparently had no reason to steal my memory.
The second creature of the night came out of the darkness wearing a long, white cape. It was standing upright like a human being but was obviously more deer like in nature because its hands were three-pronged clefts. I noticed it’s head had a long snout and a goat’s beard, so I guess it was maybe more like a goat than a deer. It wore a devious smirk and had a flare for the dramatic. It held up a glowing wand and pointed it directly at me.
The third creature of the night was much different. She coalesced from the light of the moon, transparent and ethereal as a mirage. When I tried to look straight at her, she would shimmer and vanish, so I had to avert my eyes in order to find her in the periphery of my vision. It was like having a word you can’t quite remember form right on the tip of your tongue, then helplessly slip away. It is something I couldn’t let go of until I found it, and I soon discovered myself dancing, gyrating around in odd circles like a fool in order to keep her from galloping off into forgetfulness. I quickly came to the realization that this was the creature that might steal my soul. This was what it was like to ride a unicorn.
Richard Rensberry, Author at QuickTurtle Books®