Five o’clock. Time to get ready for work.
I groaned and slogged to the bathroom for a shower. Let the unicorn mess up my kitchen. Let her break my heirlooms (not that I had any). All I wanted was hot water, soft soap, and for the stupid unicorn to figure out how to start the coffee pot.
By the time I dressed and put on my makeup, I was in a slightly better mood.
I made my bed, straightened my room, and gave myself a little pep talk while staring in the mirror above my dresser. “Don’t kill the unicorn.”
“Myra, why aren’t you making my meal?” Xtelle kicked at the frame of my door. “I am hungry and I’ve been waiting for you to…oh, what are you doing?”
“Getting ready for the day.”
“By smothering your face in wax and dye?”
“It’s called makeup.”
“Well, it doesn’t suit you at all.”
“I like it, and I didn’t ask for your opinion.” I pushed past her, turning sideways to get through the door.
“Why are you even wearing it? Oh, I know! You’re trying to attract a mate.”
She sounded gleeful. And evil. Which was a weird mix on a pink unicorn.
“I’m not attracting a mate. I wear this for me.”
“To signal you’re available for a mate.” She flounced into the kitchen and plopped down in the armchair she must have dragged in there, crossing all four of her legs neatly. “Who is it? I will help you.”
“No, you very much won’t help me.” I opened the refrigerator, glanced at options for breakfast. I had eggs, and an omelette would not only be quick, it was actually what I was hungry for.
“Then why wear something to bring so much attention to your…well, I’m sure it’s at least anaverageface.”
“I’m not trying to attract people. I’m warning them.” I retrieved the egg carton, located a bowl, and started cracking eggs into it.
“Warning them of what?”
“I’m ready to go to war.”
She was silent as I cracked the rest of the eggs and whisked them. I heated the pan, added butter, poured in the eggs, and shot her a look over my shoulder. “Speechless?”
“No.” Her eyes were suspicious little slits. “Who do you expect to go to war with?”
“Anyone who breaks Ordinary’s laws. Including, but not limited to, pushy pink unicorns.”
She made a short, offended noise. “Rude. But because I am a creature of magical pureness, I will not rise to your hateful, stupid comments. Even though that shade of lipstick makes your crooked teeth look like orange slices.”
I stared at her a second, then burst out laughing. She was just so put out and pouty and…I had a pink unicorn in the middle of my kitchen trying to domineer my dating life.
“Nice of you to hold yourself above petty insults.” I went back to the omelette, adding the vegetables in the fridge I had pre-prepared two days ago, and sprinkling in some sharp cheddar. “Because if I thought you were being mean to me, I might not make you an omelette.”
“Oh,” she said. “Are you? Making me omelettes?”
“What does this look like?” I waved the spatula over the pan.
“Food.”
“Omelettes. Enough for two and some left over for your lunch if you want.”
“Why would I want leftover eggs for lunch? I’ll be dining with you today. Out on the town, perhaps? Your finest establishment.”
