
Dark Fantasy 41-12-26 House Of Bread
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Scott Bishop
I am the dweller in the house of bread.
I'm Scott Bishop. I create fantasies for the radio. I write weird stories for magazines. I write books on strange subjects. Authors who do these things sometimes attract odd happenings. I don't ask listeners to believe my stories. I do not expect you to believe what I'm going to tell you now. As I was sitting alone at my typewriter one evening plotting in my mind an outdoor story, my room was quiet. There was a soft, spicy odor of incense being wafted in from some other portion of the house. An organ was playing softly somewhere in the distance. That was when I fell asleep. And in my dream I found myself alone high on a precipice, the highest in all creation. Where I could observe with a naked eye all the far flung wonders of the universe. Where I could overlook that common clay that mankind calls the earth.
And as I watched, high on that vantage point.
Why do you sigh, my son?
Well, I thought I was alone. Are any of us ever alone?
No, I suppose we're not. It's so desolate up here, so far from anything else. And I seem to be searching for something. Could it be my son? But the reason is you are searching for the truth.
A trope.
What is the truth? You ask that. Then asking, you surely must not know.
The truth.
Is it some vague, inconsequential thing? Some mythical nothingness? Some non existent wishfulness? Truth, my son, is neither inconsequential, no vague nor mythical. If I could only believe that. You can believe it if you will. Can one believe something he's never seen. Perhaps.
You think me a cynic, don't you, sir? I haven't said I do. Nor have you denied it. My son, look upon me. What do you see? Why, a man like myself, a little older perhaps, and perhaps wiser. I make no boast of any wisdom I might have. I am the Way and the Truth and the Light. What was that? Merely words spoken by a man who was about to die. I know the Bible. The Bible, the Way, the Truth, the Life. If I could only find them. You will find them, if you look fine. Who are you? I? I am just a man. What's your name? It is a very common name. You'll find it in any city directory or telephone book. Then why do you conceal it? I don't conceal it. My name is Wood. I can't agree that it's such a common name. Nor could you agree that it is unusual. No. Names are such temporary things you can say to me. My name is Bishop, and there is no way for me to know whether you are good or evil, religious or atheistic, learned or ignorant, an emperor or a beggar. But you've told me more about yourself than just your name. Have I? But haven't you? Just a moment ago you reminded me that your greater age has made you wiser than I. Well, if you are so much wiser, perhaps you can tell me where to find what I seek. Where to find the truth. The truth, the light, peace, happiness, contentment. All those things man wants so eagerly yet seldom finds insufficiency. He only fails to find them, my son, because he is blind to them. Then they are real? They do exist. I had said that they do. Then I beg of you to help me find them. I beg of you. That, my son, I cannot do. For it is given no one to help another find those things which you think you must search them out in your own way. You must exert your own efforts in discovery. But can't you tell me anything? Anything at all? I would like nothing better than to disclose everything to you. But this much I can say yes, if you are sincere in wishing to find the truth. If you really desire to know the way of light and happiness and peace if you would know the road to all these majestic things then seek you the House of bread. Remember the house. The House of Friends. Beat you. The House of friends. But wait. Wait, I say. Come back. Don't leave me now. Where is that house? Where will I find it? Where will I find the house? Tell me, oh, wise one, where will I find the house?
I'VE already told you I was dreaming. I make no secret of that. At first, I didn't tell my dream to anyone. Instead, I cherished it. Gave it many hours of deep thought and serious contemplation. I didn't even tell Sonia, not at first. I gave much thought to the things the man on the mountaintop had said to me. Those lines he quoted from a book almost as old as Christianity itself and the House of Bread. Where was it? Could I find it? I resolved to try. Vrbo's Last Minute Deals make chasing fresh mountain powder incredibly easy. With thousands of homes close to the slopes, you can get epic pow freshies, first tracks and more. Find Last minute deals with the Last Minute filter on the app. Book a private vacation rental now@verbo.com.
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Scott Bishop
So I went to my boss.
Are you trying to tell me, Bishop, that you're leaving? Regretfully, yes. But your work, your future. I wonder, sir, if there is a future Now, Bishop, Odin Tornation's come over you. You've got a great future. The books are selling like peanuts at a circus. Here's a wire from Fantastic Periodicals. They want a contract for a series of 12 short stories about the supernatural. There's $3,000. 250 a piece. That's not hay. Oh, good Lord, man, are you out of your mind? Think of the years you've spent building up the reputation you've got. Think of those years you studied Greek and Latin and philosophy during a day, wrote cheap sensational nonsense for the pops at night to earn your education. Think of the trunk full of rejection slips you got from the slicks before you made the grade because the money you've spent on travel and research. That's just it, boss. I am thinking of all those things. So what? Well, I've worked hard. Maybe I'm a success. Who can say? Maybe you're a success. Maybe you're a success.
If you do leave. Where are you going? I'd be glad to answer that if I possibly could. You mean you won't tell me? I mean, I don't know, Bishop. I'll tell you what I'll do we take a vacation. Yeah, that's it. A rest. A week, 10 days, two weeks. Take as much time as you like and when you come back, you'll feel better. I don't think it's going to be that easy. Oh, Bishop. What do the name of heavens come over you? Don't you think you at least owe me an explanation? Yes, I guess I do. I owe anyone an explanation as you. Well, some satisfaction in that at least. Well, it's like this. It all happened about three weeks ago. Out of my study. I had a story to write for the radio. Egyptian mummy thing. While I was trying to come up with a reasonable plot, I had ripped it off the screen.
Telling Sonia was different. The difference between telling her and the boss was like the difference between saying I love you to an actress on the stage and the same thing to the girl you adore. Was pleasant, soothing. Because Sonia understood. Sonia understands everything. She wouldn't be Sonia if she didn't.
So that's the way it is. Sonia.
Sonia
Well, my darling, when are we leaving? California. Scott, you look so strange. Didn't you think I'd want to go along?
Scott Bishop
But Sonia, you want to seek it, too.
Sonia
What better thing could I do?
Scott Bishop
Yes, I might have known you'd wish to go along.
Sonia
Do you mind so much?
Scott Bishop
Mind? No, of course not. But the journey may be a long one.
Sonia
I love long journeys.
Scott Bishop
And a difficult one.
Sonia
I've always been used to difficulties.
Scott Bishop
It may take us to far off places.
Sonia
But I adore far off places.
Scott Bishop
And it may end only in disappointment.
Sonia
Haven't we shared many a disappointment, Scott?
Scott Bishop
Yes, indeed we have. I can think of no one I'd rather make the journey with.
Sonia
Thank you, darling. Where do we go first?
Scott Bishop
I don't know for certain.
Sonia
She reminds me of Sir Galahad looking for the Holy Grail. Do you know where he was to begin his search?
Scott Bishop
More or less, I suppose.
Sonia
Do you know where to start looking for the half of bread?
Scott Bishop
Darling, I haven't the slightest idea where to begin.
Sonia
Jude, what do you suppose the man made word meant by the half of bread?
Scott Bishop
I've asked myself that time and time again.
Sonia
Surely not a real half.
Scott Bishop
No, I think not, Sonia. That phrase symbolizes something. But what?
Sonia
Well, perhaps we shall find out someday.
Scott Bishop
That was when we decided to go seeking a house of bread.
As I look back on it now, I don't blame the boss for thinking I was bombing. Here we were, Sonia and I, two supposedly sane, sensible people, throwing up everything kit and caboodle and taking out to look for something more vague and unknown than Shangri La or Arcadia Nirvana, some other synonymous place. All because of cream.
So we had the house trailer remodeled and the automobile repaired. And we drew our money from the banks and started out the 21st day of May, my birthday. About six o' clock in the morning. I gathered up the morning newspapers on the way out of the house, breathed in some of the fragrant California atmosphere. Sonia wanted to stop at the used bookshop on Pacific Avenue. So we drove through the spacious Long beach streets until we came to the place. Up at the post office. Sonia bought seven travel books and a back issue of a magazine that contained one of my better stories. She said she wanted to drive around Rainbow Pier once. So we did, and we scooted over to LA, picked up Highway 66 and drove to Las Vegas. We stayed in a tourist cabin at Boulder that night. Right. And early the next day we drove over to the dam. So we began driving through the mountains. Out of the place. I noticed Sonia laboriously riding in a small patrol.
What's that, dear?
Sonia
Five years. I thought we should log our trip. Perhaps we'll assemble enough material for you to write another book.
Scott Bishop
If we log our trip, my sweet, you will have to do it. Me? I couldn't write an IOU with a penny.
Sonia
Oh, I've already started. Started to keep it. Scotch. Here, listen. May 21st. We left Long beach at 7am and were out of Los Angeles by 10:30. The trip across the desert was uneventful but quite pleasant, and we arrived at Las Vegas.
May 22nd. Flagstaff, Gallop, Albuquerque.
May 23. Amarillo, oklahoma city, tulsa.
Scott Bishop
Kansas city, st.
Sonia
Louis, chicago, philadelphia, washington, new york city.
Scott Bishop
May 30th. We sail today from Pier 17 for London aboard the SS America. As we stood at the ship's rail together, Sonia and I, we wondered just why we decided to leave the good old United States behind. Something tell us our goal was far beyond the sea.
Sonia
We spent the past few days in London. It is now June 27. We have seen the River Thames, London Bridge, Trafalgar Square, Downing Street, Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, Piccadilly Circus, many other points of interest. We were especially attracted by a place called the Night of the World. But the people we asked there and everywhere else had never heard of the House of Bled.
Scott Bishop
July 16th. We're about to leave Paris for Madrid. Sonia and I sought diligently in the City of Pleasure for the place the man called Word named to me. They searched everywhere. The magnificent Bois de Boulogne, boulevards, everywhere we could go. The Eiffel Tower on the Louvre and Cardinal Richelieu's Palais Royal Cathedral of Notre Dame. Grand opera house. The Ark of Triumph. Then we were attracted to the Place de la Concorde, which is called the Place of Peace. And we thrilled for a moment because we thought our search was ended. But when we asked about the House of Bread, folks only laughed at it.
Sonia
Thirtieth.
Scott Bishop
Madrid.
Sonia
For there are two classes of people, those who go to bed after 3am and those who get up before four. No Spaniard had ever heard of the House of Bread.
Scott Bishop
Morocco, August 20. Mingling with the Moors and Arabs. Wandering up narrow, crooked, dirty street through shabby buildings and unkept market. All with a general aspect of dilapidation and extreme neglect.
Sonia
Tripoli, September 15. Sponge fisheries, ostrich ferry, gold, ivory rugs. And the ruins of a triumphal arch erected to mark Ceruleus.
Scott Bishop
Cairo. Egyptians, Arabs, Nubians and Turks. A city of mosques, high stone houses, barred windows, stately turrets and doors rising above the surrounding dirt and squalor. And the temple where tradition has it that God talked with Moses.
No encouragement here either. The house, the man word spoke of is unknown in late October.
November 6.
Sonia
November 16.
Scott Bishop
November 26.
Sonia
December 5.
Scott Bishop
December 15.
Sonia
December 25. Jerusalem. The Hill of Calvary, not far from the city gate. Where once a humble man bearing a cross, misunderstanding and hate, far heavier than mere beings of wood, drunk the last drop in the cup of human bitterness.
Scott Bishop
The City of God. The City of David. Solomon, Cyrus. The Persian king.
Sonia
Nebuchadnezzar, the Babylonian. Alexander the Great. Constantine the Great.
Pontius Highland.
Scott Bishop
The storm swoops down, rain begins to fall. The newborn stars are hidden. All save one. There's one star to the east, quite close by.
Scintillates through the gloom, through the downpour.
Sends out its rays and engulfs us, pulls us, becomes almost a part of it. And Sonia writes that we must follow the beam it sends pounding vigorously. Earth, wind.
Sonia, let's go back. At least find shelter.
Sonia
God, you're tired. Who tried to find shelter, do you? The margins are completely filled.
Scott Bishop
Then we'd best go back to Jerusalem instead of wandering about here in the.
Sonia
Darkness here of some sort of shelter.
Scott Bishop
Here.
Sonia
Scott, let's step inside a moment, shall we?
Scott Bishop
All right? Yes.
Sonia
There seems to be a mice in here.
Scott Bishop
Yes, and there's someone here beside us. Scott, look.
Did you welcome, good people? We beg your pardon? We thought this place was unoccupied. No, no, do not go. You are welcome here. I say, haven't we met before? I believe we have. Yes, we have. Now I remember. You're the one in my dream. Your name is Word. In the beginning was the Word, the Way, the Truth and the light. I am come, a light into the world. And whosoever believeth in you shall not abide in darkness, the wind and the truth and the light. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon you. And the glory of the Lord showed round about them and said unto them, fear not. Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy. For to you who is born this day, a savior. Here, here in this humble manger, you.
Sonia
Were born 2,000 years ago.
Scott Bishop
Verily I say unto you, I am with you at all times, in all places, even unto the consummation of the world. Then this is our answer. This is what we've been seeking so earnestly. Because you have seen me, you believe.
And that is my story. We awoke the next morning feeling more refreshed than we'd felt in all time. The sun was bright, the rain had gone. What was the significance of the House of Bread? We didn't learn that until later. When I consulted the Britannica, I quoted it as written word for word. Bethlehem, a small town in Palestine situated on a limestone ridge five miles south of Jerusalem. A city called by the Hebrews, the House of Friends.
This is the National Broadcasting Company.
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Scott Bishop
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Episode: Dark Fantasy 41-12-26 House Of Bread
Date: December 6, 2025
Host: Harold's Old Time Radio
This episode presents a classic radio drama, "House of Bread," originally aired as part of the series Dark Fantasy. Authored and introduced by Scott Bishop, the story embodies the reflective, spiritual, and mysterious tone characteristic of Golden Age radio. The main narrative follows Bishop, who sets off on a metaphysical and physical journey—spurred by a powerful dream—to seek the meaning of the "House of Bread." With his companion Sonia, he traverses the globe in pursuit of truth, enlightenment, and inner peace.
Scott Bishop’s Introduction (01:19–02:30)
Encounter with the Guide ("Wood") (02:44–07:10)
Recounting the Dream's Impact (07:10–08:25)
Resigning and Confiding (08:25–11:12)
Setting Out Across America (12:47–15:32)
International Search for Meaning (15:32–19:19)
The language and exchange throughout the episode is poetic, contemplative, and often formal, with echoes of old radio’s dramatic style. Bishop’s narration is earnest, blending existential ponderings and religious allegory. The dialogue between Scott and Sonia features warmth, partnership, and gentle humor.
"House of Bread" is a poignant reflection on the universal human search for truth and spiritual fulfillment. Through evocative storytelling—rooted in both myth and faith—the episode suggests that life’s most significant answers may not be found through logic or geography, but through sincere seeking, companionship, and openness to revelation. For fans of old radio drama and contemplative tales, this episode is both a nostalgic treat and a quietly powerful meditation on meaning.