~ The End ~
How do I end a story like this?
We got home with the sun coming up. By the clock in the kitchen, my part in the whole thing had been only about twenty-four hours.
It seemed longer.
Dad was, if not ‘all right’, at least ‘alright’ in the stoic, bull-headed parlance of the Midwest. He’d survived, he wasn’t talking about it much, and I suppose I understood why as well as anyone – maybe a little bit better.
We’d made it through, and that was it. Tomorrow might be better.
Might be worse, too. Life rarely works out the way a story would, and almost never like a fairy tale.
We don’t usually get a Happily Ever After.
But we don’t have to settle for The End, either.