A Bright Future Still Shining

John Franklin sat in front of his grandfather’s home, the many paths of his future darkening, leaving fewer and fewer choices. The door swung open and both smoke and chanting escaped outside, dispersing in the evening air. Red-hand walked slowly outside and lowered himself next to his grandson; not talking, just waiting.

“Will she be okay,” John Franklin asked.

“Agasga’s spirit is depleted and she may never be the same, but she lives,” Red-hand answered.

“My path is now set,” John Franklin said. “The French will die.”

“No, Tsiyi,” Red-hand said. “Your future is still bright, you go to study.”