A short story by Lazarus Carpenter

Deep in the forest, there stood a small wooden house that was said to hold the most wondrous of stories. The house was owned by an elderly man named Lazarus, who had lived in the forest for as long as anyone could remember. Lazarus was known throughout the forest as a wise and kind man, who would always lend an ear to anyone who needed it. He had a reputation for being a great storyteller, and many people would come from far and wide to hear his tales.
The house was small, with a thatched roof and in one room, the walls were lined with shelves filled with books, scrolls, and ancient artifacts. In the center of the room, there was a large wooden table, surrounded by chairs and cushions for guests to sit on. At the back of the room, there was a fireplace, and above it, a candle that never went out. The candle was said to be enchanted, and it would burn forever, casting a warm magical glow throughout the entire house.
One day, a young traveler named Dai stumbled upon the house while wandering through the forest. He was tired and hungry, and he hoped that the man who lived inside might be able to offer him some food and shelter. When he knocked on the door, Lazarus answered, and he welcomed Dai inside with a warm smile. He offered Dai a seat at the table and a bowl of cawl, and he soon found himself captivated by his stories.
Lazarus told him stories of dragons and giants, of brave knights and cunning thieves. He told him stories of love and loss, of adventure and discovery. As the night wore on, Dai found himself lost in the tales, forgetting all about his tiredness and hunger. As the hours passed, the fire burned low, and the room grew dark. But the candle above the fireplace continued to burn, casting a gentle light over the room. Dai felt as though he was in a dream, surrounded by the warmth and comfort of Lazarus’s stories.
When he finally left the house the next morning, Dai felt as though he had been transformed by the experience. He carried with him the memories of the stories he had heard, and he knew that he would never forget the magic of Lazarus’s house of stories.
And so, the house continued to stand, deep in the forest, where the candlelight never went out, and where the stories of Lazarus continued to inspire and enchant all those who were lucky enough to hear them.

Grateful thanks to Gill Brooks for the Images


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