The Story-Teller

Once upon a time, there lived a mysterious story-teller in London. Nobody knew where he was from, where he lived. All they knew was that he was gifted. He used to tell such stories that provoked the imagination of his audience. Some of his stories were out-of-this-world, while some used to be ordinary. No matter how his stories were, his audience always waited for more. He loved his audience and for them, he made sure that he was never short of a story. Almost everyday he came up with a new and different story.

Once, when he finished recounting one of the best tales he had ever told, a rich old man from the audience walked up to him and asked him a very peculiar question.

'You have been telling so many different stories, but you never told us your own story. I have a feeling that your own story would surpass all your tales.'

The story-teller was intrigued by his question and asked him to accompany him to his home, on one condition that he would keep mum all throughout. He agreed. After walking listlessly for two hours, the annoyed old man was stumped to find out that they had reached the same place from where they had started. At last, vexed, he broke his lull. He irritably inquired from the story-teller about what was going on, but all he got in return, was a sad smile, that had more weight than even the best of his stories. The story-teller's poignant circumstances dawned upon the old man and he couldn't say a word in response.

The story-teller whispered, 'You know why do I tell so many stories? It is the only way I can keep myself away from my own story.'

The old man was turned speechless. His wet eyes didn't allow him to speak immediately. He took out a thousand pound note from his wallet and handed it over to the story-teller, saying, 'it's for your own story, please accept this as a token of appreciation. I was so right that your own story would surpass all your tales.'

The story-teller hesitantly accepted, bowed in gratitude and whisked off, while the old man slowly walked off with a tearful smile.

Three hours later, in a countryside situated fifty miles from London, the story-teller knocked on the door of a villa and was greeted by a beautiful woman. He kissed her and said, 'honey, I told the best story today. Look, the audience loved it so much that I managed to collect one thousand pounds.' The woman kissed him back this time.