Stories don’t end. They only go their separate ways. We take leave of them. Not knowing what comes after.
Your story may not have such a happy beginning, but that doesn’t make you who you are. It is the rest of your story. Who you choose to be.[to Po]
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.