“I’d be a unicorn,” says Arabella.
“Unicorns aren’t real,” says her big brother Henry.
“Neither are dinosaurs!”
“Yes, they are, they’re just extinct. Unicorns never existed in the real world.”
“Unicorns exist in my imagination.”
Listening, Mum thinks it wouldn’t be bad to be a unicorn.
To be a fantastical creature, made of pure imagination. To be glitter and sparkles and rainbows with lethal hooves and a deadly horn. To be fast as wind, leap high as waves and soar like eagles.
What better way for Arabella to fulfil her dreams in the real world than believe in her imagination.