A bowl of oatmeal and berries lay untouched at the table, a splash of milk outlining the edge of the bowl. A short, slender man flopped on a high-rise chair held pages of unreadable text, incessantly scanning each word through his sluggish eyes. Thick- round rimmed glasses occupied much of his upper face, enunciating his drowsiness. Ruffled hair stuck out from his oily scalp, electrocuted with the pleasantness of the morning. His mouth, opened an impalpable amount, brought forth irregularly spaced teeth as distinct sleep lines drew a map around the right side of his face. Blowing through the reek of his morning breath, a startled gasp escaped his parched lips, baffled at the sight beyond. Barely distinctable through the tranquility of dawn was a glistening horn, ivory white body and hooves polished clean. A sharp, immediate draw of the chair and his wide strides across the hall alerted the creaking wooden floor, loud and ceaseless. Shrieks of his wife's name echoed along the cornered walls as the displeased woman plugged her ears with the corner of the pillow. 

The first few words they exchanged resulted in the man receiving an unfriendly eye, and the woman, troubled with the unnecessary waking, to fully submerge herself in the thick woven blanket. Soft, light strands of her hair  surrounded her resting face, flared nostrils and parted lips indicated sleep once again restored. However, his second attempt at developing a conversation ensued the woman having to push herself up from an unyielding doze. Her long flowy nightgown, a creamy green, undulating gently as she slipped her petite feet into black bedroom slippers and with a stubborn face, crossed arms and protruding temple veins listened to the ridiculous fable recited by the husband. 

As soon as the idea of the creature churning lilies and roses began unfolding, she knew the tell-tale to be far more significant than a dream. As soon as his fictitious fabrication had completed its due course, and as the husband went off to explore his significant discovery, the woman threw on a robe and eagerly dialed to alert the policeman and psychiatrist of the wacko husband she came to experience that morning. 

A talk, sleek, dark skinned man, balding and with a bushy- black beard in a police uniform, accompanied by a sophisticated man in his mid-twenties, a face of young wrinkles, long nose and stainless coat sat in the room, revising the flow of events that took place and preparing for the booby case that was apparently to be dealt with. As soon as the husband arrived, the only question left to validate his innocence was if he had mentioned a unicorn in the garden to his wife. 

"Of course not. A unicorn is a mythical beast, why would I bring up fantasy?" 

So, turning the tables of the wife's ingeniously devised plan was a pandemonium of shouts and screeches as the woman was mercilessly dragged and put away in a booby hatch for uncertain time, to the great relief of the man and his much savored bowl of soggy cereal.