Unicorns, on my Feet

So I showed up for write-club today and these were waiting for me:

And now I am home and wearing them and, really, the world should beware, for there is nothing more terrifying than a chap wearing unicorns on his feet (because I am classy, I haven’t yet taken off my socks). They do feel, rather oddly, like you’d expect shoving your feet into a pair of unicorns to feel (by which I mean rather soft and cloud-like in their fluffiness, rather than a gross congealed mass of blood, sinew, and dead flesh)

They’re a gift from the inimitable Angela Slatter, and yet another in a recent string of reminders that I have much better friends than I deserve.