In any great story, there’s a truly poetic moment, like the T. rex bursting through the skeleton of a Spinosaurus, or finding out that Indiana Jones named himself after his family dog.
This was the way, before it was cool.
In any great story, there’s a truly poetic moment, like the T. rex bursting through the skeleton of a Spinosaurus, or finding out that Indiana Jones named himself after his family dog.
If a personal crusade causes one to go through extreme grief to find answers, is there a point they should stop? In the case of