Read by Sarah Feathers & Tony Bell
In walks a unicorn. Me, sitting at the bar, looking at the time on my phone, it’s exactly 7.29. I’d arranged to meet this girl through a dating site, no problem about that, but she wouldn’t send me a photo. We agreed 7.30 here, a very public bar, so if either of us feels wrong about it, we can clear off with no problem.
There’s all kinds of reasons for not wanting to send a photo, but being a unicorn was not one which had occurred to me. Well, not until now.