Unicorn…a story.
“What are you?” asked the boy.
“I’m a unicorn.”
“Unicorns don’t exist.”
“I know,” said the unicorn.
“Then how can you be one.”
“One what?”
“One unicorn.”
“I just am,” said the unicorn. “Whether you believe in me or not, has nothing to do with the fact that I exist.”
The boy nodded. “A lot of stuff’s like that. People say things are real, when they aren’t, and unreal, when they are.”
“Happens all the time,” agreed the unicorn.”
“My name’s Jerry, what’s yours?”
“I’m a unicorn. Unicorn is my name.”
“You don’t have something you’re called that makes you different from all the other unicorns?”
“Apparently not.”
“I don’t think humans could get along without names. We have to call each other something.”
“Why?” asked the unicorn.
“So we know who we’re talking to, I guess. Besides, we have to put our names on school papers, or the teacher won’t know who wrote what.”
“Would that be a bad thing?”
“Not for me,” he laughed.
“A lot of your gods are invisible and people believe in them. Why can’t they believe in unicorns?”
“Some of us do,” he said. “My sister loves you guys. I guess people believe in invisible gods because they’d be really disappointed if there was a real god in the world.”
“That makes sense,” said the unicorn, flicking his tail.
“To me too.”
“You said your sister believes in unicorns?”
“She’s six. Her whole room, and most of her clothes, are covered with pictures of unicorns.”
“People like that help keep us alive.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“It’s not that we would die with out people believing in us, but once something disappears from the minds of others, it’s kind of like dying, or just being deeply forgotten. People who lived a thousand years ago aren’t remembered by anyone, so they are good and truly dead.”
“I never thought of it that way. Maybe if I stop thinking of William, he’s a kid in my class, he’ll disappear.”
“It doesn’t work that way. You need time to forget and more than one person has to do it.”
“I knew it was too good to be true,” sighed Jerry.
“Everything has a time to be and a time not to be. If everyone was remembered, things would be rather…cluttered.”
“True,” agreed Jerry. I guess everything fades away eventually.”
“It does, but that’s not a bad thing.”
“It isn’t?”
“No. It just makes room for new things. Human egos are fragile. People put importance on things that don’t matter. The only thing that’s truly important, is what you do in the moment, because that’s all that actually exists. There is no past or future, there never has been. There’s only now.”
“You mean like, now I’m talking to a unicorn?” he laughed.
“Exactly.”
“Are you like a pegasus, but just without wings?”
“Not really. And a pegasus isn’t like a unicorn, just without a horn. We are different species, but it’s hard to tell since we do look like the horses you have on earth. We have more magic than is allowed on this plane, that’s why we can’t live here.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Not many people know that,” said the unicorn, kindly.
“My mom said that whatever can exist here is here, and whatever can’t survive here is not here.”
“She’s right. Everything has its place. There are limits on everything. There are things you can’t live without. If oxygen were to disappear, everything would die. Everything needs certain things to live, and if those things aren’t available, then whatever needs those things, can no longer survive in that place.”
“Fish and I can’t change places,” said Jerry.
“You cannot.”
“Why are you here?”
“I stop by once in awhile,” said the unicorn. “I like it here, but I can’t stay very long. My magic interferes with the electrical energy that exists in this place. In fact, it’s time for me to go.”
“It was very nice meeting you,” said Jerry. “I don’t suppose many kids get to meet a unicorn.”
“They definitely do not. You are one of the few who can see me.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he said, shaking his mane.
“Do stars live inside of you?” asked Jerry, staring at the unicorn.
“Some do, and if they are showing, that means it’s time for me to…”
“Disappear,” said Jerry, who continued to stare at the spot the unicorn had been standing a second ago. “Bye,” he whispered, as he turned and walked toward home.
Rethinking Life 
Written
on February 27, 2018