Old Madge Journey finally took to walking the streets of Miltville, muttering to herself. It seemed she was trying to decide something, but no one could really tell. Folks tolerated her, for she had lived there all her life and was harmless despite her weird-acting ways. Some thought her tipsy, but she'd been a teetotaler for as long as anyone could recall.
Finally, on her deathbed, surrounded by her tiny circle of family and friends, Madge told her tale.
"You know I was married 50 years to Frankie Journey, a fine, loving man. We raised horses and had a good life. Then came to day when he took my favorite stallion out for a ride. They tried to jump a rail fence but didn't make it. Both died that day of broken necks. I went into mourning and have been stuck there ever since. The dreadful and the shameful thing is this: All this time I haven't been able to decide who meant the most to me--Pretty Boy my favorite horse, or the pretty boy who was my dear husband."
Madge Journey closed her eyes in final rest, and the Baptist Minister was called in to say a prayer for the three departed souls.
Finally, on her deathbed, surrounded by her tiny circle of family and friends, Madge told her tale.
"You know I was married 50 years to Frankie Journey, a fine, loving man. We raised horses and had a good life. Then came to day when he took my favorite stallion out for a ride. They tried to jump a rail fence but didn't make it. Both died that day of broken necks. I went into mourning and have been stuck there ever since. The dreadful and the shameful thing is this: All this time I haven't been able to decide who meant the most to me--Pretty Boy my favorite horse, or the pretty boy who was my dear husband."
Madge Journey closed her eyes in final rest, and the Baptist Minister was called in to say a prayer for the three departed souls.
