The magic one grazed in the tall grasses, unconcerned about anything, regardless of snakes, insects, predators, or any other such threat in her vicinity. The unicorn handled herself in a self-possession, as the deadly ones seemed to look right through her. She might have been invisible.
Unicorns were a rare commodity in the local environment. It would seem they were having problems breeding, but it was not so. Each one of the stallions or mares was assigned to a separate and unique area to inhabit, and each filled their office of habitation with a sense of duty and pride.
A unique and separate entity they were, and no one among the wild things knew why, while everyone among the wild things had a clear knowledge of what a unicorn was. It was a lot more than the obvious horn growing out of their forehead. There was a magic about a unicorn none other had.
The petite creature, cousin to the gazelle, took on an air of promenade when they walked. None of the other creatures have ever witnessed a unicorn in flight, except the children of the village, when they got the pluck to hop up on the unicorn’s back. A certain invisibility overtook them then.
Nobody knew a unicorn could fly, except for the few children who flew with them.
All the dangers of the wild seemed to magically avoid the unicorn. She lived in the wild, but the wild was as unconcerned with her as she was with it. It was almost as though, in the coincidence of being a magical creature, she was not required to interact with their environment, except to graze.
Graze she did, while there was plenty of sweet grasses to graze in. There was plenty to eat.
Many a day, for the mature unicorn, was spent wandering about the strange scenes, which were known to unfold in flight, and whatever the child on-board happened to see. She seemed to be more capable of avoiding being someone’s mount, because of having a rider was a dangerous proposition.
The magic of being a unicorn was inescapable, not that this elder mare wanted to avoid her office. She was as unaffected at the prospect of being a unicorn, as she might have been at serving any office. The mare was familiar with everything about being a unicorn. It didn’t bother her one bit.
The creature was singular, magnificent, and mysterious to behold. She seemed to exude a certain luminosity regarding the very presence of her being, even from afar. The one feature of her spiraled horn was fascinating for all to regard. There were few who could come within her vicinity without wanting to stare. She was beautiful. The unicorn was, indeed, a lovely creature to behold.
The unicorn was visible to children, and she understood very well she was likely to end up with, yet another passenger, since this unicorn had already had the experience of taking on riders in the past. She had already experienced tandem flight, and the unfolding of history below.
Suddenly, there was a heavy cloud burst, and everything got wet, including the unicorn, for one, but no one seemed to notice or mind there was a temporary downpour. All took it in stride, the way the wild one’s do. A good cloud burst never hurt anybody. There’s nothing new under the sun.
Soon enough, the rain stopped, and the herbivores fed. The assaults of the carnivores began anew, and soon, many of each were feeding. The unicorn, cousin to the gazelle, grazed unconcerned. The children of the nearby village had been indoors, out of the rain, during this event.
Suddenly, the unicorn found she had taken on a passenger, and was already in flight. Flying was that transparent. It was absolutely contingent upon having a passenger on board. The magic came from that. Since all passengers were children, flight would be powered by imagination alone.
Unicorn noticed the history lesson unfolding beneath them. She understood the lesson was squandered on most passengers. The lesson the child got was in the War in Vietnam, and social unrest in the United States. Unicorn did her duty, and carried the child far away from their point of origin.
There were a lot of battles across the sea. Caucasian and Afro-American fighting men lost their lives in what they called defense of their own country. They could not avoid learning they’d been lied to, and all those American lives were lost for no reason. When they went home they made a big noise.
There were plenty of Vietnam Vets who made anti-war protests, indicting the Federal Government for telling them lies about the war, and what they were supposed to be doing there. Vets were irate about all the propaganda America has been propounding to our children at home, from day one. American schools and churches were filling innocent children with lies about America.
Things like Liberty and Justice for All, have not wrung true with many Americans for a long time now. When people began to come down with chemical imbalances in their brains, were getting incarcerated by the cops, in madhouses, where the door is always locked. Liberty’s a mockery.
In America, young adults by the thousands were taking dangerous drugs. They were protesting the war in Vietnam by doing as many drugs as humanly possible. Many young adults in America were getting sick, and filling the state hospitals with mental illness. It was tragic how they got sick.
Some would be sick for a lifetime, with an illness the doctors didn’t know how to treat when all these things were going on. This was the plight of many. The scientists got busy in America, and they
developed a wide variety of medicines to treat illnesses like bipolar disorder and chronic schizophrenia.
If one has something so debilitating as chronic schizo-affective disorder for a lifetime, and one doesn’t die, or kill themselves in the interim, what one learns to do is live with the disorder, and settle for nothing less than survival. This was part of the agenda for many Peace-nicks throughout America.
That’s what happened to a lot of the hippies and flower children. They took a dangerous drug once, and paid for it for the remainder of their lives, with a chemical imbalance in their brain. This took the chemists a long time to remedy, and in the mean time, the order of business was to hang on.
Those chemicals would cause a traumatic event for the youthful individual, activate a mental illness in the bloodstream, and the flower child would be fortunate to survive the despair. A lot of that happened at Height Asbury and Woodstock, where there had been a lot of hippies and flower children.
There were demonstrations against the war on the college and university campuses, but when there were a lot of assassinations all over the place, the Baby Boomer Generation took to the streets in open rebellion. They rioted in some of the larger cities, and in some of the schools.
There were already demonstrations about the Vietnam War. Now, they rioted in direct rebellion against the assassinations of the Kennedy Brothers, Martin King, and Che in South America. Someone was killing an entire generation’s leaders, and the Woodstock Generation was not putting up with it. What ended up happening was that the President of the US ordered the abrupt evacuation of Vietnam.
This calmed things down for awhile, but the damage had already been done. Those four charismatic world leaders were already dead and gone. Nothing was going to bring them back. The unicorn thought it was a moving account of the lives and events of a time.
The youth on her back seemed to get absolutely nothing out of the entire presentation, which was a reaction most frequently arrived at, when the unicorn took stock of the reaction of the child. The unicorn was capable of speech, but preferred to remain silent most of the time.
In fact, it was so rare to know a unicorn to speak, it was not widely known that they could.
Those things were being depicted below the unicorn, with a child on-board. But the child and the unicorn were in Africa, not America. The child could not make the connection with anything going on in his own life. The entire lesson was wasted on an innocent who could not understand.