The children had been escorted there and asked to patiently await my arrival. The back room of my tailor’s shop had been being used for this very purpose for the past thirty-two years.
It was a bit dank and dusty, drably adorned perhaps and sparsely furnished but served its purpose well. There were twenty-two high-backed chairs that encircled a small table which held but two items. An old oil lamp and a book, a large tome, really.
It was rather old, tattered and worn a bit, but it was still my most favored and prized possession, other than my memories. I had thought to have it copied one day to preserve its integrity, but then realized, that would never do.
My favorite old rocker chair, sat just behind that table, where I would sit and read from that book and hopefully pass along something of value to another, and so, I began to tell the greatest tale ever written…
