Christmas Wars 2022 Banner © TJ Edson
The Unicorn’s Wife
Alex is a unicorn, but only I know about it. He only turns into a unicorn on Christmas eve, like werewolves come to life on full moon nights, which is unfair, but then again, that’s why unicorns are rare, or non-existent, for people tend to go out on Christmas eve, meet family, friends, and unicorns are shy, they don’t make appearances, not in front of crowds. Bye honey, he says, each time he leaves for work, once a year, as I shake his tail to remove excess glitter, then spend the night wiping the floor, until he comes back.
Alex is a unicorn, of the hard-working kind. On Christmas eve, when time counts differently, he works overtime, and he’s dead tired when he’s back, but people think of him as lazy, think of him as weird, because he sleeps a lot, and even when he’s awake, he’s too busy laughing, he laughs at silly jokes, at smart jokes, all jokes are funny if magic is abundant, and magic is always there if one is happy, like Alex is happy.
Alex is a unicorn, and he’s my husband too. First time we met, he shied away, but then came closer, made a weird grimace, and said he’d come to make me laugh, for that’s what unicorns do on Christmas eve. He spoke in rainbows, like unicorns normally do, he made me dizzy, and I fed him apple-pie, which kept him busy for a while, kept him quiet, which gave me time to appreciate the colors, the brightness, the joy he brought, an astral romance, a love at first pie, not at first sight, which is on no importance, for those words almost rhyme.
On Christmas eve, Alex is busy making people laugh, and that’s the unfortunate part of the deal, of being the unicorn’s wife, we can’t celebrate anniversaries as we should, and maybe we can’t pay bills on time, but on the other hand, Christmas bells won’t stop ringing when we’re together, my unicorn and I, fairy lights won’t stop blinking all year round, they shine when we laugh at silly, inside jokes, and we laugh all the time, and twinkle lights glow, glow, glow, like we glow.
Mileva Anastasiadou is a neurologist, from Athens, Greece and the author of We Fade With Time by Alien Buddha Press. A Pushcart, Best of the Net, Best Microfiction and Best Small Fictions nominated writer, her work can be found in many journals, such as the Molotov Cocktail, Chestnut Review, trampset and others.