Where do old stories go to die? As we are nearing the end of these stories about stories, it’s a fair question. Do stories die? Do they end? Can they end? Or are they like energy - only (and always) changing form? Sure, our stories will go on through the stories of others we have touched. I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about stories as we carry them. Can we leave them, or lose them, or let them drive off into the sunset without us? This is more important than you might think...