The Final Note

My uncle works at the glue factory up the road. He says that people always think that after they shoot lame horses that they drive them up there and mash them into glue. He says that isn’t true at all, and that glue is just a bunch of chemicals being mixed together and it is really boring to watch. Still, I can’t help but think of all the lame horse souls I’m spreading on the back of each photo I stick into my scrapbook—as if I can release them somehow, that my memories would help them to horse Heaven.

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Title by: Anonymous
Story by: Jeremy
Illustration by: Lavanna Martin

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Undo

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