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Very Short Story

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I was used to disappointment, but not like this. The unicorn looked at me as if I was a groupie; just another little girl dressed as a synthetic princess. I say this now as a warning to all other little girls; don't search for that golden ticket. Maybe they aren't all like that, but this unicorn wasn't nice to be around. I told him that I had dreamed of riding a unicorn all my life; he just stuck up his nose. I told him there weren't any unicorns where i lived; his snobbish reply of maybe that's a good thing cut my heart.
I was told by the boy next door that unicorns were stoopid. At the time i stomped my bejeweled foot and told him that he was stoopid. But now I see his point of view. Maybe he had the same princess dreams, wore the same tiara; then had his love of beauty stomped on by the hooves of that same unicorn.
I might be preaching to the choir; but I know this one thing. Maybe there's a good reason why there aren't too many unicorns running around today.





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