A squat gray building of only 18 stories sitting gingerly in front of me, the road our divider. Over the main entrance the words “Mythical Creature Redemption Agency.” I walk in, leash held firmly in my hand. The inside is as the outside portrays it. Gray, solemn, uniform…
I feel a drop of tear slide down my heart and enter my stomach, creating a rather uneasy sensation.
“Mr. Zomchek?” a woman with a painted face calls out.
I stand, gently tugging the leash, and walking forward to the desk in which the lady who called my name resides.
“Are you here to redeem your mythical creature?” She asks, gum popping in her mouth, glasses sliding down the crook of her nose.
“Um, yeah,” I say. I feel nervous, although I don’t know why.
“What is the species?” They have to ask even if it’s obvious, but I respectively give her an answer, replying in a timid voice, “Unicorn. Female.”
The woman looks at me, then at the unicorn. She smiles and says, “My, my Sir, what a beauty. You sure are going to get a heavy pocket of changer for her.”
Maybe it was the way she smiled, or the way her very pink lipstick stained her teeth, I couldn’t help but to wonder if I was doing the right thing.
Maybe this unicorn didn’t deserve redemption, maybe she didn’t deserve to die.