There was a small house in a dark green enchanted forest.

It was really quite dark all around in the forest, but this little house was nonethless a very bright-looking one, and had a shining red roof. Sometimes people, usually travellers, would get lost in the enchanted forest and find this house and go in there, allured by the bright redness of this roof (the villagers knew better than to go into the forest, because they knew what went on in that dangerous place).

And, surprisingly enough, this house was occupied by a solitary novelist with black horn-framed glasses. He always wore light tan clothes, and was a very shy old man. How he got to be so old before anybody ever read his stories, is a very sad story on its own. And we won’t go there today or ever, because we all know how sad that is going to be. Oh I know, sometimes you like to hear sad stories, but we are talking about the ehchanted forest and the moving house, not about this novelist. Oh! – yes, I forgot to mention, this house changed its shape every six days. Or six hours. Or six weeks or even six months.. something that involves six. It all had to do with who came in and through the forest, because how often the house changed its shape was all up to how the forest and the enchanting beings in it felt. Yes, so the forest could feel. This forest was a feeling forest, which was why it was enchanted, because if it could not feel, it could not be enchanted either. So, the house changed its shame according to the way the forest felt like it, which was very unpredictable, since it all has to do with who goes through the forest, which is totally up to chance. Unless you believe in God, and how he plans everything so carefully to the detailest detail right on the point of the needle – and even if he did, it came out with such an intricate pattern that it would seem random anyway.

So this house keeps changing its shape. The novelist goes on writing stories that nobody reads. It is every day and every day is the same day – it doesn’t move. There are people who go through the forest, get enchanted then get out of the spell, and they do this by going into to this changing house and talking to this novelist who just happened to have gotten wise from living away from the people and alone in this magical forest. See, there was no other single human there but him. He was only surrounded by animals who could not speak (strange, because the forest itself clearly had a soul which allowed it its feelings) and his changing, but mute house. And wouldn’t that be such a strange feeling? Something that has such close contact with you – the floor the you step on and walk about on, is part of the house, for example – moves around.. it feels alive! But it doesn’t speak or make faces or breathe or anything – wouldn’t that feel just so weird?? And you would think that if one had to live in such a place all by himself and dealing with such a weird big creature that would seem capable of eating you up even would drive one completely mad – but this did not happen to the novelist guy, quite amazingly enough; instead, this man has grown naturally old and wise. And he would give the lost, enchanted travellers advice on anything that they wanted to talk to him about, which was often actually quite random because this wise man was such an inviting figure who just made words flow out of anybody’s mouth; not nonsense though, but always something that they had actually thought about or something that was on their mind right at that second. It was very rare that somebody would actually ask him for ways to get out of the forest’s spell, for one does not notice that one’s enchanted state while one is enchanted. But, by simply speaking to this old man who writes stories, they somehow get out of this dreamy hazy state and find their ways out of the forest. The house is a very comforting, relaxing and beautiful place and you would want to stay there until somebody kicked you out if you were there just from where you are right now, but somehow all these people would arrive at a moment where they get up and out. And such is life. And the old man sits there writing stories. Forever. You’d think that on some of those days, some very dramatic speical person will come upon the place, just like in the stories, or maybe a very ordinary person, just like in the newer stories, and something special would happen, changing his life forever and becoming a special story in itself; but that never happens. This is the old man’s life. And this is the story of the forest. It is enchanted, by the way. But it just is enchanted. And, maybe, the lives of the people who go through this place change after their having been enchanted, but there are one too many of them and wouldn’t it be really tiring to hear about all of them? Don’t you think so? By the way, the house keeps changing its shapes. Isn’t that interesting enough to keep the novelist and the forest AND all of us from getting bored anyway?

So, the forest remains enchanted, for thousands, thousands of years, just as the old man stays there writing, and writing, and writing, while no one reads his stories. [Because he is all the way up there stuck in this forest, and we don’t actually want to hear about how he got to be stuck there either, because that is so sad. But the forest is there. And he lives there. Maybe for thousands of years.] But the legend lives on. And the legend itself is a story. So isn’t that enough for this poor novelist and the enchanted forest? I think so. People keep going through. They get enchanted. They get unenchanted. The forest stays enchanted. The man stays in it. The house keeps changing. There are no stars. It’s just a forest and a dark green one all the time. It’s very special, mythical and, needless to say, a very enchanting place. It’s the same stuff all over again every single day, but it’s enchanting. And isn’t that enough for you guys? It is certainly enough for me. Now, good night – be enchanted and get lost in that forest. Hopefully you’ll meet that novelist guy and entertain him for a while, because he is a pretty lonely guy all the way up in that forest and you, you also probably need some advice on something now, anyway. By the way, don’t forget to touch the transforming house. It’s got a suprisingly cushy texture. Tell it that I said hi. Thanks. Good night guys – for real this time.

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