Ever see a Unicorn?
And no I wasn’t on anything at the time. It was broad daylight in the middle of a July afternoon in 1984.
I’d gone for a job interview in Olds and was on my way back along Highway 2 when I passed a field where horses were grazing. It’s a common sight and nothing to turn your head over.
But my head did turn, rather sharply in fact, when I clearly saw the horn protruding out from the forehead of the mottled gray horse nearest the highway.
I only saw it for a split second because when I turned for a full on look it was gone. The other horses -- all of which were assorted shades of brown -- were still grazing.
I didn’t say anything about it at the time chiefly because I was rendered speechless. My parents, who’d accompanied me on the trip, didn’t notice anything or just didn’t admit to it.
I can’t write this off to imagination because of the accompanying feeling. It felt like change. It felt as though everything was going to be fine, that I was on the right track, and the Olds job was mine.
I got the reporting job in Olds and stayed there for 33 months. I passed by that field dozens of times, but it must have been a very specific sign because I haven’t seen it or its kin since that day.
I want to. I have hope that one day it’ll show up on the edge of my awareness signaling another big change or just reminding me that there’s magic about.
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