“I’ll give these back to New Jen,” she said. “It was nice of her to let me wear them.” She realized how scuffed and dirty they were. “Oh, my!” she cried. “I had no idea how hard I was on them!” She hoped New Jen would forgive her for ruining her shoes.
And then, listening to the fat raindrops smack the broad leaves of the nearby trees, Dancing Bear began to write. Not the Final Paper; not the Whoop-de-do Presentation, but her Very Own Story.
So, boys and girls, this is not really the end: it’s a beginning.