Attempts to Capture and Tame a Unicorn: (6) Poaching No 2

I knew now the unicorn’s weakness. She clearly loved the new food I’d introduced her to as those oats that had been spilled the week before had since been hungrily snaffled up during the intervening week. The grass where they had fallen had been cleared and marks in the dirt where her lips had eagerly displaced it could still be seen. This keenly noted, I continued with my hands-free poaching attempts, ripping shamelessly from Roald Dahl.

But with no success. The Horse-hair Stopper had little effect. She saw the hair in with the oats and didn’t touch them. Indeed, she spat on them and ground them into the floor in disgust.

So I went for the big one - the Champion plan. I had little choice, really. Grinding horse tranquilisers to dust, I mixed them with the oats and placed the mixture in a pile on the ground. The unicorn was soon lapping it up and finished it off in under a minute.

The effects were soon seen as she began to stagger about all over the clearing before finally laying down in a groggy heap in the sun and falling asleep. I broke cover, pulling a cart behind me to transport her; my heart singing all the more as it was my birthday, this the perfect present; hearing the deep breathing of her sleep.

As I drew close, though, the singing ceased abruptedly. She sprang up and ran off as if she’d just been joking. Maybe I should have used more. 

Attempts to Capture and Tame a Unicorn: (5) Poaching No 1

I grew up adoring Roald Dahl, so starting with his poaching ideas seemed the most logical place to begin. Though I had scared the unicorn off the week before, I felt the heavy-handed approach could wait another week or two while I attempted to poach her away.

It began with me testing my oats theory with a variation on The Sticky Hat method. I dug a small pit that I lined with a nose bag - the bottom filled with oats and the rim painted with glue. The pit was deep enough so that the unicorn’s eyes would be inside the bag as she ate, like with the chicken in the book.

When she entered the clearing, about three o’clock, it was on the far side from my little trap. She began to graze. Slowly she worked her way across the clearing, chomping away at the grass until she got a couple of feet from the oats and her nostrils started to itch and flicker. Her tongue started to reach out for the taste, new and sweet-smelling. She was drawn in quickly as if on a line and she was soon chewing.

The moment she started to chew, I entered the clearing myself with a rope to use as a leash and began to make my way to her. But, alas, my luck was out. I stepped on a twig and her head popped up out of the hole - nose bag and all, the rim sticking above her eyes as I had hoped.

The desired pheasant effect was not achieved, however. The unicorn did not relax, she shook her head, trying desperately to dislodge the bag and break free.

I stood stock still, feeling a little guilty for causing such distress, and not wanting to get whacked. This way and that she shook her head, her little ears flapping about wildly as the bag went nowhere, stuck snugly around her nuzzle.

Until she suddenly stopped the panic as if realising something and the bag slipped off her face, hitting the ground and spilling the remaining oats. The unicorn then snorted loudly before retreating back to the safety of the forest.

Myths of our Solar System (9): The Earth God

The Earth God was feeling overworked. As the usual God of the common people he was
the most regularly contacted deity and under constant pressure.

As the commonest he was forever looking up at the greater deities, those with temples and
statues, and wishing he could rest in such a place of silence and tranquility rather than on
the altars of every home in the land, right in the hubbub and chaos of life.

However the Earth God had always been a clumsy fool, unable to sell himself and had
found himself bottom of the heap.

Today he was feeling particularly stressed after another poor harvest had struck and he’d
been thrown out of many homes again. But it was no wonder things went wrong when he
had so many people to attend and so little time in which to do so. And so many complaints
and appeals to deal with as well: it was not for him the simple bliss of specialisation. No,
he was called upon for every problem under the sun. Pregnancy, good crops, wealth,
deliverance from every evil- all these things fell under his remit. No wonder things
occasionally went awry.

Well. They went awry a lot as it happened.

Oh, if only. If only he’d done better as a young one, if only he was less of a bumbler. If
only he had staff. And more sake.

Myths of our Solar System (8): Mother Earth, mother of all in This World

As The Chaos that existed in between the First World and This World whirled about her,
Mother stumbled forward across the rock. Broken by the woe she felt and seeing that her
children would have no future in this desolate place, she laid down and became the earth,
giving her body and her form so that her children might have a future.

As she transformed, Mother spread herself out as far as she could, covering whatever rock
she was able to- stretching across valleys and plains alike (even up slopes onto plateaus
where she felt able) and out from where the First World had stood all the way to rivers and
lakes and the sea, nestling around the bottom of mountains and other pieces of rock that
she could not cover.

And then Mother Earth decorated herself. This was something she had always had a
certain flair for, having designed and made most of her own clothes and furniture in the
First World and decorated her and Moon’s chambers. Designs and ideas that were copied
by the woman folk of that place.

Across This World Mother Earth made the plants grow from out of her new form. Grasses,
flowers, trees: all sorts, all colours beautifying and enlivening the brown covering she had
initially given the bare rock.

Then, after the bodies of the dead servants had been given to her, Mother Earth turned
each group of them into the first examples of each and every species that now live upon
This World.

Mother Earth then watched as the demon who had destroyed her love reappeared,
admitted what he had done and wrestled to take control as he had wanted to do in the
First World, his minions fighting as he stood back.

Later he was forced into the Underearth and Mother Earth, alongside the rock beneath
her, has kept him and his followers there as best she can. Continuously she feels the
pricks as he finds ways to try and force his way up and through to the Overearth once
more.

Myths of our Solar System (7): Mother and Moon, leaders of the First World

At the start of the First World the people all ruled together. In time, however, many grew
tired of this and two people were chosen to rule, a husband and his wife, and a council
was formed to assist and advise them, each representing different parts of the First
World’s society.

Mother and Moon were the two selected. Brought together by Mother’s twin sister, Venus,
they were seen as the great lovers of the First World and were beloved by all so that no
one sought to replace them. Although there was one man, the husband of Venus and
close friend of Moon, who had been passed over for rule because there was something
about him that people distrusted: he was not even selected for the council.

His jealousy and desire for power would cause him to force Mother and Moon apart, an
event that would destroy the First World. For what he did not know was that as their rule
went on, the pair, without knowing it, had become increasingly linked to the structure of the
First World so that its very existence became dependent on their love.

The end started when that man, who would wreak much havoc in the following years,
had begun to poison Moon’s food with a substance that made the man changeable. His
behaviour began to move in phases, the periods of which were as erratic as his moods.
One day, hour or moment, he might love Mother still but it never lasted and eventually
he would become a ball of hate or indifferent even: sometimes barely recognising her
existence, sometimes not knowing who she was. Such was the cloud that the poison
brought to his mind. This new character pained Mother deep within. Her Moon had
become someone else.

*

The arguments between Mother and Moon begun before The Betrayal and, as they
went on, the servants noticed the stones of the First World begin to move just a little, the
intensity of the movement depending on the ferocity of the argument. Although sometimes
they noticed that the arguments they overheard had no effect at all.

In the meantime Moon’s mind became more addled and he began to be unable to
distinguish between Mother and her twin sister, Venus. Now Venus had noticed this and,
having become estranged from her husband, the man seeking to separate Mother and
Moon for his own ends, and having over time become jealous of the love between Mother
and Moon, Venus saw that she could use these moods in order to destroy their love.

In order to do so she started to dress in Mother’s clothes and enter Moon’s chambers
to visit him when no one else was around so that her identity could not be pointed out.
Quickly the plan began to work and despite having to sometimes bear the brunt of Moon’s
temper, Venus also felt his love on his better days and, unlike her sister, went to bed with
him, with the hope of one day being caught.

And one day she was. Though Moon was confused at the sight of two Mothers before
him, the resulting argument with the angry one was sharp and short and shook the entire
First World, such was the depth and pain of the feeling Mother held within her bosom.
Before she left her naked husband and sister, Mother slapped Moon with such ferocity that
the poison’s hold left him and Moon saw what he had done. And that there was no going
back.

That is when Mother and Moon drew away from one another forever and tore the First
World apart, bringing it to its end.

250 Words: Sophia Scholl

We knew about the Jews, the mentally ill, what is happening on every front.  And our conscience wouldn’t allow it, wouldn’t allow us to sit quiet and obedient.  Bloodshed opened our eyes to the madness we exist in and that we must rise to sweep away. 

We, the youth, must end the old guard’s day and start again.  Clean the buildings they have tarnished and cultivate the soil they have spoiled. 

We fought with words, with paper and ink.  Using trains and stamps to spread them out and fight the tyranny of fists and guns; the perpetrators of war.

We fought with an idea.  An idea opposed to that which rules us and our people, this faction of symbols and camps, and for a return to a world of freedom and peace.

We fought with our youth, maybe wasting it with foolish acts, but words and vigour were all we had and, underneath the blade, I regret nothing: only pray that our thoughts are preserved from harm and still rain down over Germany, that some root of our movement will remain and flourish.  Somebody, after all, had to make a start.  What we wrote and said is also believed by many others.  They just do not dare express themselves as we did.  Righteousness can only prevail if people are willing.

Such a fine, sunny day, and I have to go, but what does my death matter, if through us, thousands are awakened and stirred to action?

Es lebe die Freiheit!

Attempts to Capture and Tame a Unicorn: (4) The Unicorn and First “Contact”

She was nothing like the medieval writers had claimed.  No multi-coloured hybrid of lion, horse and buck was she.   The horn was the only part they got right, although there were certainly no elephants to pierce with it!  Neither was she anything like the cartoonish plastic abominations my sisters used to play with.

Though only the size of a pony, she was perfect in proportion, fine and elegant.  A sweet face, thin and a little stubby, jewelled with great blue eyes and crowned with a mane of white hair that formed a ridge down her neck.  Her coat was purest white, a tiny bit shaggy and seemed to shimmer a little whether she was in the shade of the forest or the rain or shine of her clearing. 

I watched her from my little tent on the edge of the clearing all day, just walking around, eating flowers and occasionally jumping about through the airborne rivers of dandelion seeds or chasing the cabbage white butterflies.  And I knew I was right to be here, to want to capture and tame this little angel.

After an hour or two of watching in wonderment I tentatively stepped out of the tent to see if capture and taming was even necessary.  I stood carefully while she was eating and turned toward me, moving forwards slowly and smoothly, watching her face for signs; she seemed to smile serenely to herself as she chewed thoughtfully.  The moment I began to outstretch my arm to stroke her, her head darted upwards and she looked at me for the first time. 

I froze solid.  Flipped up my hand to gesture safety; friendship.  But she neighed, in fear I think, turned and fled.

It seemed my plans would have to go into action.  I hoped against hope that she would be here every week.

Needless to say she was.