The Hope of the Vote.

There is a special joy with reading stories with young(er) people, especially when it is their first time to be exposed to a favourite of yours and even if the youfs that I'm talking about don't necessarily belong to you.


This time, it was the tale of Prometheus. Chained to a cliff face for daring to bring fire to the mud marching human kind, doomed to spend an endless eternity being pecked and nipped and chomped at by liver-thirsty eagles, his time seems quite tragic.

And then Pandora's Box is open. Out comes the evil, the terror, the carnage, the mess, the horror and the nightmares to ravage the Earth below and its inhabitants. Gloom! Doom! Homework!

But the final breath.

The tiny glimmer.

That little sparkle.

And suddenly, somehow, there is something. Not now, but a maybe. A possibility. A consideration of the future with a tiny, earnest desire and expectation.

Quietly, they comtemplate the ending of the story. One pipes up.

"That Hope....it's kind of important, innit?"

Yeah.


Yeah, it is.

Please don't give up and please do vote.

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