The Pony Cart Massacre

 
When not giving free rides at the school, Grandpa and his pony cart could be seen around town taking care of his business.  He preferred the pony cart over his car because people could jump in and out whenever they wanted for short free rides around the central business area. The entire town considered Grandpa and his cart their very own. 
 
Every public event in La Center wasn’t complete without Grandpa and his pony cart.  Today, he was on his way to join the “Our Days” celebration parade in town.  As an integral part of the community, he had been at every parade for decades.
 
 His three-year-old grandson was sitting on the front bench seat next to him.   Sometimes, he would give him the reins and let him drive the ponies.  A lady riding her bicycle was on the left side of the empty cart.  She was a neighbor of Grandpa and now and then would join him on her bicycle for some of his outings.  On this day, she, too, was headed to the parade, and they had decided to travel together.
 
On the other side of the cart, Grandpa’s six-year-old granddaughter was riding her pony named Sugar.  Grandpa had given it to her this last Christmas.  It was the Four-H project she had always wanted. 
 
The pony cart, the two people on the front bench, the two people with the bicycle and the other pony had about a mile to go before they arrived at the parade.  All of them were laughing and talking together and enjoying this wonderful August day.  Suddenly, a car traveling way too fast came around a curve in the road just in front of  them.  Because of that curve, they hadn’t seen it until it was upon them.