Brightwell
Time walker
It is still dark outside; the stars blaze brightly in the night sky. I am still laying in my stall on this week, old straw. Slowly I open one eye and twitch my ear. All is clear all is quiet. I breath in the smell of the stable. My stable mate Frome snores in the stall next to mine. He has the late shift on the North side of the village. He is the oldest of the milk horns. His rout is the market area and two magic schools. Klein's School of Magic is the oldest in the county. On the delivery list it is simply KSM. The other school is much newer Blaylock's Institute of Magic. Or BIM on the delivery sheet. It is said that in the old days that Frome was the horn to beat in the races. Now horn racing is way in his past. And mine too.
I did fairly well in the races. Six first places, 26 second places, 136 third places and 2016 also rans. I was not a big gold maker for my owner. I was a roll filler. Just another unicorn in another race. Finally, after 28 last place finishes my owner decided my days as an also ran had run its course and I would be put to good use in a different field of endeavor. Now I am not complaining you understand. Pulling a milk wagon is not overly hard work and the South side of the village is larger than the North end. I also have more stops. And that makes my load easier the longer we go.
There is a squeak of the stable door and the fresh morning air rushed into the stable. The milk delivery man called Gable trudges in and bangs loudly on the side of my stall. This startle me and I quickly on all fours. He looks at me bready eyed. And slowly raises the side if his mouth in a sneer. "Don't judge me, Kaloc!" He mumbles as he presses the catch on the stall door and slowly wonders in. I watch as he shuffles through my straw to my pile of unicorn blankets. There are three. And I watch to see which one he will pick. "I don't like these hours either, you know."
He chooses the grey with the red trim. This is good news. That means I will have an easy day. He pulls the blanket off the rack and slowly walks over and throws it over my back. He looks me in the eye. " We lost two accounts Kaloc. The elf house McGill and a gnome garden house called Phelp. The boss is not happy" He leads me to my unicorn collar. He raises the collar and slides it over my horn and my head and puts it in place. When everything is as it should be, he leads me outside. The milk wagon sits there just waiting for me. Soon I am hitched to the wagon, and we start out to the milk barn. Just another day. Another day as a milk horn.
I did fairly well in the races. Six first places, 26 second places, 136 third places and 2016 also rans. I was not a big gold maker for my owner. I was a roll filler. Just another unicorn in another race. Finally, after 28 last place finishes my owner decided my days as an also ran had run its course and I would be put to good use in a different field of endeavor. Now I am not complaining you understand. Pulling a milk wagon is not overly hard work and the South side of the village is larger than the North end. I also have more stops. And that makes my load easier the longer we go.
There is a squeak of the stable door and the fresh morning air rushed into the stable. The milk delivery man called Gable trudges in and bangs loudly on the side of my stall. This startle me and I quickly on all fours. He looks at me bready eyed. And slowly raises the side if his mouth in a sneer. "Don't judge me, Kaloc!" He mumbles as he presses the catch on the stall door and slowly wonders in. I watch as he shuffles through my straw to my pile of unicorn blankets. There are three. And I watch to see which one he will pick. "I don't like these hours either, you know."
He chooses the grey with the red trim. This is good news. That means I will have an easy day. He pulls the blanket off the rack and slowly walks over and throws it over my back. He looks me in the eye. " We lost two accounts Kaloc. The elf house McGill and a gnome garden house called Phelp. The boss is not happy" He leads me to my unicorn collar. He raises the collar and slides it over my horn and my head and puts it in place. When everything is as it should be, he leads me outside. The milk wagon sits there just waiting for me. Soon I am hitched to the wagon, and we start out to the milk barn. Just another day. Another day as a milk horn.