Tonight's Bedtime Tale

In a small house at the edge of a quiet town, there was a lantern that had been passed down through generations. It was not a grand lantern, nor was it particularly bright. But it had a gentle glow that seemed to understand the hour.

Each evening, as the sun settled below the horizon and the sky turned from blue to deep purple, the lantern would be lit. Its flame would flicker just once, then settle into a steady, warm light that filled the room with a soft amber glow.

The family who lived in the house had a simple ritual. They would gather near the lantern, and one of them would read a story. The words would come slowly, pausing at commas, resting at periods. The lantern's light would seem to listen, its glow steady and patient.