The story behind

I slowly walked up the gravel path. The big timber house towering in front of me. This house had always been a little scary. I hesitated a few seconds in front of the door. Didn’t really have to knock on this, could just skip it and go on to the next house. I was selling gingerbread cookies to earn a few extra coins and was around eleven years old at the time. Not so daring, but curious. Finally I gathered enough courage to lift the door knocker. I jumped at the sound of it hitting the massiv wooden door. Nothing happened. I wanted to leave but something kept me standing there. Knocked again. Did I hear something? No. One last knock before leaving. Yes, I could definitely hear something now. A voice? I turned the door knob and the heavy door slid open. Hello, I called out. “Come in” I heard more clearly now.  Took a few cautious steps toward the voice. Hello! Yes? The voice came from a room deeper inside the house and I steered my steps towards it. Now standing at the thresh hold of a big room, shelves of books running all along the walls. There in the middle of the room stood an old  leather armchair, the back of it facing me. A man was sitting in the chair with a pipe hanging out of his mouth. I watched the smoke rise towards the roof. “What do you want” he asked as he laid down his book, still not turning around to face me. I slowly walked towards him, so that I could see his face. His pipe was glowing,  and it ignited a glow deep within me too.