I dream of a world where hope replaces fear. A world where a murdered man can stand in court to face his murderer. Where a crippled soldier, shrapnel in his spine can be killed, healed, then brought back to life to walk again.
You know this story. The crack of lightning. A mad genius. An unholy creation.The world, of course, remembers the monster, not the man. But sometimes, when you look closely… There’s more to a tale. Sometimes the monster is the man.