Once Upon a Midnight Dreary

(A fictional story by Abigail, to be read in a dramatic style)

My Readers,

Listen, I pray, to the tale I have to tell;

Alas and alack, for I am doomed, I have an article to produce, words to write, and a story to enthrall you with. But low and behold, my trouble comes, like a thief in the night. And speaking of which, it is night, and it is quite late indeed. And behold, I type.

Typing you say? Indeed, and on a computer. But then, the trouble, the great trouble, of immense proportion comes to call. And it encircles my mind, and ambushes my thoughts, and disables my capability of producing ideas. Yea, and the trouble, the great trouble has caught up with me and lo, I have been asked to produce a post and alas, I am trapped, disabled, powerless, confused, idealess, clueless, in fact, use the most hopeless word you can find and that is the way I feel.

Alas, for I do not, I cannot create a tale. I ought to intrigue you, and charm you with a drama of the dashing prince who falls in love with the fair maiden, or the adventures of a young man fighting all odds to achieve the goal of his life, or an epic tale of a character who is seeking the treasure above all treasures. But alas........ I have nothing.

Nothing! Nada. Zip. Goose Eggs!

All advisors have long since retired. They are unable of giving me ideas. Unimaginable ideas, strange, unearthly, humorous ideas. Do I lack the capability of giving myself ideas? Oh, woe is me, for I am particular, very particular and cannot decide the perfect story that fits me to a T, or an S, or a Q, or any letter of the readers choice.

I am lost and without hope. I stare at the screen. But lo, there are no words. Nothing to begin with. Nothing to captivate my readers with ...... oh, what shall become of me? My trouble has overtaken me, it has overwhelmed me, and I sink my head upon my desk and I fall into slumber.

Hark! For I start, and I awake from my slumber and recall my assignment, then my trouble, after that my despair, and lastly, my slumber. It is much later then when I began my tale; and I feel the urgent urge to write something, anything, whatever it may be.

Well, dear reader, to end this tale of mine........... I wrote. And behold, you have just witnessed my writings, you have read my tale, and you have seen my trouble. And thus, I end my tale.

Note: The above mentioned occurences did not actually occur, but came at a moment when I was without clue as to the style of writing I should use for the story I was supposed to write and ended up with a whole different tale, thanks to my sister. This type of story, I must add, I am only capable of writing late at night and am quite unable to come up with such strange and depressing creations at different times.