Unicorns and Dragons
Some days are miserable, and tragic, and decidedly gah. Those are the days that need a particularly large dose of magic, and that's when they arrive.
First you hear a thundering of hooves on cotton-candy, then you see the dust-cloud of swirling glitter and dreams, a tousling of sparkling manes and swishing tails, and a chorus of bobbing horns and musical snorts: The unicorns have arrived in their usual flamboyant style. They rear and dance and play around me, their pastel bodies writhing with beauty and joy. Suddenly, my day isn't so sad, now I have a unicorn eating an apple over my shoulder as I study.
But that's not the end of the show, for the unicorns bring with them a troop of cheerful disorder. The bright lights and chiming giggles of flitting fairies join the merry parade. A small group of mischievous burrowers are on the hunt for all things shiny, tunnelling and popping up again to chase the bejewelled Fire Crabs, like a game of Whack-A-Niffler. Bowtruckles languish in the trees, gossiping and climbing with their lazily acrobatic movements. The clabberts patiently watch on with flashing bulbs, and I know from the bending tree-limbs that there is a gentle demiguise here too. I pat the herd of pink and purple pygmy puffs playing at my feet, while billywigs above spin dizzingly in circles in chaotic joy. Playful crups and fluffy kneazles weave and dart through the throng. On my shoulder perches a phoenix, singing a song of courage while a snidget flutters in excited circles.
And finally the fashionably late arrivals can be seen on the horizon, flying fast and swooping low. Many sets of iridescent whipping tails and razor sharp claws land in perfect synchronicity, accompanied by the roar of wind under leather wings and billows of smoke from scaly flared nostrils. The clan settles not far away from the rest of the magical hubbub, waiting for it to come to them with the grace only belonging to Antipodean Opaleyes like themselves. They snap their jaws at those who would disturb me and my crazy companions, give me their strength when I have none of my own, and provide a convenient heat source for roasting marshmallows. They bring me a comforting presence as they lie so brilliant in the warm sunlight.
I spend a long time with my friends, a little harmonious insanity, a calm companionable chaos only for me. But eventually the unicorns tire of this plain little world, and they are the first to return to their own. And so my friends leave one by one, until even the dragons are gone and I am alone once more. But I know they'll return if I need them again.
With an imagination like mine, how could any day be truly awful when I have my unicorns and dragons?