Deep, terrified sigh. Here goes for your take on the first 13 of a story about a girl who alone can see unicorns--my first completed short story in forever. The story's finished, though not polished, at about 1,500 words, and yes, I'd love critiques on the full if you're in the mood. It's still pretty raw and I hate parts of it myself (note to self: turn off self-defense mechanism before posting next time), but I like it enough to work on it. Thanks!
Sometimes the unicorns flashed past her in lightning streaks of yellow and crimson. Sometimes they merely glimmered at the corners of her dark brown eyes. And other times they hovered somewhere just behind her, so close she could almost feel their summery breath on the back of her neck. But whether she leapt to her feet, or whirled around, or tore after them until her lungs burned, the same thing always happened: when she tried to look at them, they were gone.
And each time it happened, Rachel never quite knew whether to burst into laughter or tears. But she did know for certain never, ever to tell anyone about seeing the unicorns. She’d learned that the hard way.
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