He nervously tugged on
his earlobe. The unicorn was quietly grazing away in front of what was
unmistakably the Millennium Falcon, although someone had repainted it red. If
the objective of this move had been to make it less noticeable, it had failed miserably.
He cast an uneasy
glance over his shoulder.
Podolia had
categorically banned science fiction in ’91. The unicorn found itself in a grey
zone, but the Falcon was without a doubt illegal. If anyone so much as got wind
of him having seen it, he would hang.
He casually revolved
on the spot to make sure that no-one was around, gave the unicorn a pat on the
back and entered the Falcon.
This one was the
result of a writing prompt for which I asked everyone to write down a
random word. My words were: red, ear, Millenium Falcon, unicorn, Podolia
and 91.
