Romance
When the unicorn found a
romance novel, open to page 243 already, on the sofa of one of its favorite
women, it felt tenderness toward the woman, but also a little sorry that the
woman had to stoop so low. And it wasn’t even a lesbian romance!
Until one rainy day the
unicorn read a romance itself and ate the requisite chocolate bonbons while the
flames of the fireplace cast their seductive shadows. The unicorn cried passionately throughout the
last two pages, though it had a sneaking suspicion that the romance it was
reading wasn’t even particularly good.
Next day the unicorn confided
in its English professor, an open-minded sporty young man who, the unicorn
believed, would be inspired by its insights.
“I felt so much I never get
to feel in my comparatively seedy and grainy life,” said the unicorn. “And it
wasn’t even a unicorn romance!”
“The only problem with
romance novels is that they are all the same,” said the professor.
“Which makes them sort of
like football games, doesn’t it?” mused the inspired unicorn. “The only
difference is in the detail.”
The unicorn was astonished
when it flunked the course.
(from The Unicorn And . . ., Lulu 2008)
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