Rory had suspected since he met the leprechaun that there was a cosmic wave pushing his life’s direction. He realized that he must do something to show his commitment to woman’s rights which had become the focal part of his journey. Since going into semi-seclusion on his peanut farm Rory had managed to defeat his intestinal issues by eating sushi twice a week and he had spent a great deal of time thinking about his carriage business.
The fight to start tours around the lesser known parts of Williamsburg had gone well and gotten Rory more money than he would ever need. He had a fleet of carriages and a manager for the team. Her name was Venus. She did not play tennis, although her mother hinted that she would have liked Venus to have played. Venus’s gift was with horses and managing finances. She had a business intelligence that far surpassed anything Rory could ever realize. In thinking about Venus’s potential, Rory knew how he could fulfill this part of his destiny.
“Venus, I need to talk with you,” said Rory.
“Sure, what’s up?”
“I’m giving you my business.”
There was a pause because Venus was not sure she had heard Rory correctly. Rory meant what he said, he was giving the barn to Venus. The carriage business was hers.
Rory said, “All I ask is that you give me one last ride around town.”
Venus looked out back and there was one wobbly wheeled carriage that needed some work and three old horses. Tom was the strongest and hardest to control. He once got away from an aspiring writer and ran from Colonial Williamsburg to the brewery. Star was the oldest and most like a draught horse. Billy was feeble. Together the three could do the job, but a homogenous group they did not make.Venus got the horses ready and Rory gave them each a pellet of food.
The horses started out well, but Venus felt something was wrong. There must have been something in the pellet that caused the horses to hallucinate. The equine retirees from Colonial Williamsburg saw a Dali-like rattlesnake in the road and bolted with fear. Rory fell back on his own hand becoming the first carriage ride participant to check his own prostate. He managed to stay in his seat as the horses barreled down Francis Street. He was pretty sure his life was over.
Venus had other thoughts. She was letting the geezer horses run. She was smart. She was beautiful. She was woman and this was now her gig. Nothing was going to stop her. Finally, the horses tired and started walking again. If ever there was such a thing as a horse hangover, these three would have one.
Back at the peanut farm, Rory sat outside and thought how perfect Venus was for the business. He had done right by women and wondered what his next calling would be.
“Jigsaw Blues” by The Rolling Stones played in his head.
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