Cryptids

I learned of this website that allows you to spin a wheel and land on a square that tells you how to make a life decision based on you doing what a unicorn would do in response to the same situation you’re facing. I spun the wheel this morning and it said i should “whinny and rear.”

Whinny and rear. Well, I do this all the time so it didn’t seem to be a huge stretch. I was glad I was not advised to nuzzle a newborn or frolic in a meadow; although I was hoping that I’d be told to impale evil things, I guess I’m not really in shape for that. Good call, wheel.

So I went out the front door on my hind legs and waved my arms around. My voice has too much tobacco in it for a solid whinny, but I made some sort of approximate noise and sortied forth.

At the gas station, the pump refused my credit card so I whinnied at it. There wasn’t much space to rear up since I’d parked too close to the pump, but I managed something that didn’t look too un-unicorn like and fulfilled the prophecy. I was becoming mythical! Certainly, the pump’s refusal to honor my credit made that a distinct possibility!

I drove out to the Tower Hills, just outside the city. I knew I’d be the lone unicorn out there, since it’s not the season for the regular unicorns — while they equally adore frolicking in meadows covered in snow or wildflowers, the mud of a Massachusetts spring is something they’d rather not touch. I pulled off the road by the reservoir and found a trail there, which I followed to a bar in a clearing.

The bar was better furnished than I would have expected, and the drinks were well made and cheap. The bartender greets me with a nod; it appeared to me that I had been there before, though it all seemed new. I knew no one else, at least by their faces, though I recognized them by their traits — the floor was covered with their tired muddy tracks: griffins whose wings had been stolen, chimeras with odd parts from random plastic surgeries, basilisks who could turn you to Corian with a single glance. I joined my fellow cryptids there and we indulged in our fortunes for many, many hours until I was drunk on the dizzying rhythm of my whinnying and rearing.

Tomorrow, I’m going to return to that website with its majestic wheel, that dynamic image of cardboard and bits. It tells me old stories that make me feel like I’m not alone in believing that there’s a greater purpose. I know it’s supposed to be for amusement only, but if it’s just a joke then why did it lead me to the place where I feel most justified?