The Legend of the Wh

The monitor's display was fading, the curves growing fainter. Childhood memories, happy and bright, flickered like a slideshow. Was this it Was this the end,Tears welled up in her palms, the little girl was still so prone to crying.,Death is both an end and a new beginning. Flowers bloom and wither, cycling through endless renewal. All beings can only let go of attachments and accept the natural flow of things.。