Unicorn in the Attic (A Christmas story)
© Peter l. Barnes and Peter Barnett
A Unicorny story.
“Can you get the tree down, please,” called Jamie’s wife, Susan.
Another trip up into the dusty attic, he thought. He never remembered where he had put the tree or all the lights and decorations. Christmases never lived up to their expectations since the family split up across the globe.
He dropped the attic hatch, pulled down the ladder and climbed up. He switched on the light, which created a series of bright spots and many dark shadows. He had never explored some of the shadowy areas, not that he was worried about what he might find, in fact he imagined hidden treasures, tucked in ancient trunks. But there was still enough space in the lit areas, for some suitcases, toy boxes and old soft furnishings that they stored up here.
Climbing up and stooping low to avoid the low beams, he began his search, sweeping the tiny torch across the humps and lumps of cloth covered boxes and small furniture discards.
“What,” exclaimed Jamie, spinning around and hitting his head on the rafters, expecting to see her pretty head over the top of the hatch.
“Did you say something Susan,” he called down.
Not a peep from below.
“That’s strange, I’m sure she called. It must be my imagination.”
“Am I a figment of your imagination,” said the voice, from the black depths of the attic.
“Who are you?” Jamie asked, swinging the beam of his small torch around the dark recesses.
“Me,” said a creature, appearing out of the shadows.
A beautiful Unicorn with a glistening golden horn in the middle of its forehead appeared from the gloom. The exquisite Unicorn, only two foot tall, was adorned by red and blue ribbons in its perfect white mane, stood in front of Jamie, swishing its feathery tail, stirring up dust and sweeping it from the rafters.
“Careful,” said Jamie, hiding his eyes from the perilous dust. “How did you get up here.”
Because of copywrite in fringements, you’ll have to buy the book once published to read more.