Why I hate ABCtales
There was a time, in the not too distant past, where I lived in a cheerful vacuum. It was my belief that I was the only real person writing anything at all. Books, newspapers, and the like, grew in an organic fashion from some sort of plant. Being the only real person producing literary gushings, it didn't seem to matter quite how abysmal my prose was, as, being the only one producing it, I would always be the very best.
It was with dismay that I logged onto the truth - a truth so awful that my pen fairly wilted in my hand. The fateful log-on was to this dreadful site saw my comfy cocoon shatter all around me. Yes, the dreadful knowledge was unavoidable:
There are other people out there who write. What's more, their a jolly sight better at it than me.
Cruel, cruel world wide web!
I am undone.