“Did you hear about the unicorns?” Sol asked.

Des squinted into the late-afternoon sun. “Which ones?”

“What?”

“What kind of unicorns?”

“The animal.”

“Huh. What about them?”

“What other kinds are there?”

“Tech stocks. Like Uber.”

“No. I was talking about the animal.”

Des crumpled his burger wrapper into the bag and twisted it shut. He folded his arms over the railing. The water under the bridge was sluggish and too green for June.

“What about the unicorns?” he asked.

“They’re supposed to be migrating.”

“Where?”

“South.”

“Where are they now?”

“North Dakota-ish.”

“Huh.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Where’d you hear about it?”

“Some guy was talking about it on the phone in the bathroom while you were ordering.”

“Oh. Did you look it up or anything?”

“No.”

Des sighed.

“Do you want me to look it up?”

“Nah. It’s okay.”

“Okay.”

Des looked around for a garbage can. He didn’t see one.

“It’s probably not real,” he said.

Sol shrugged. “Why not? Lots of things are happening.”

“Yeah, never anything good.”

Sol nodded contemplatively.

Des sighed and reached for his Juul.

“He seemed trustworthy,” Sol said. “The guy who was talking about it.”

“Huh. Thanks.”