At some point in the week following the boat incident I had
a moment of clarity and realised what a jerk I had been to waste so much time
and money on a plan just to piss it away.
I could also see this was likely to keep happening unless I could find
something else to plough myself into.
Which I couldn't and so instead resolved to return to the clearing with
the simplest of ideas.
I started by revisiting an old plan. One time, a long time ago, I had tried to
wrestle the unicorn into submission and she had beaten me fair and square. Now, though, I had a new edge. An inner anger and bitterness to bring into
the ring. While she was unchanged, I was
a much darker character now. I had been
airier before, worn bright colours, been more of a fan boy really. Now I wore black underpants, had a black head
band and very bad hair. Metaphorically,
you understand.
Oh, alright then.
More than metaphorically (save the pants). The 'fun' part of me decided I should
approach in costume. I wore a black
t-shirt with a skull on the chest, a head band with the same motif and, rather
lamely, black sweatpants, at the end of which a pair of steel toe-capped boots. Draped over the outer garments was arguably
the coolest part, a long leather trenchcoat.
I looked pretty silly. But then
that was the point - I felt that a sense of humour would help get her into the
fight.
And it worked nicely.
I stood, legs apart and stooped over ushering her to the fight, removing
the trenchcoat to show how serious I was.
The unicorn grinned her wicked grin and walked towards me. We faced off, waiting for the other to
spring. Circling around staring into
each other's eyes for signs of when and where.
Or of weakness leading to backing out.
Of these there were no signs that I could see. Nor could she in mine.
All that could be seen was the fact that we both knew who
would win again. With the first twinge I
launched myself forward and the bout began.
I took out her front legs first, twisting and turning her over but she
sprung me off easily.
And so it continued.
We made play after play for each other, dodging and ducking all we had
thrown at us as we continued toward the inevitable conclusion that caused a
knot in my throat to form, grow larger and choke.
Each time I laid my hands upon her I felt an urge to turn
nasty in order to gain some form of satisfaction. To vent my spleen through physical
aggression.
It happened when she pinned me. My right hand shot up and took a firm grip of
her mane and I yanked her off me and onto her back, my left knee being used to
push her front legs onto her stomach to help limit her struggle. Then my left hand grabbed her throat.
As she gasped for breath and flailed her free legs about I
thought about how good this outcome could be.
This was the perfect exit door.
Without a unicorn I would be able to walk away a free man, move on with
my life. I had entered a huge maze-like
cul-de-sac but there was suddenly a dark and gloomy alleyway with a dim light
at the far end. A light that was full of
hope for the future.
Then I came to my senses and let her go. And for the first and last time she punished
me. With her watery eyes focused in hate
she pushed her horn through my shoulder before holding it at a steep downward
angle until I slid off it and onto the ground.
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