Leftovers

Morgan propped the rear door open with the half-cinderblock left in the alley for that purpose. He scattered the day-olds onto the ground and sat to wait.

clop... clip-clop...

They'd never quite gotten used to him, but they'd accepted that he came with the free cinnamon rolls, and they were willing to tolerate that. Gray, soot-streaked coats and tangled manes couldn't quite hide the shine as the stallion of the herd flipped a raisin bagel over with his horn.

Morgan smiled. "Mom always told me it was worth keeping myself pure," he told the unicorns. "I didn't quite believe her."