There was a certain incident, on a certain day, that changed the lives of these five friends quite significantly. I have sworn to secrecy about it though, and it is with much regret that i can only continue this story by telling you one thing: there was a disagreement between two of the friends over a death. I shall leave the rest to your imagination (to my uttermost regret you must know) but please do not imagine that the two friends who had an altercation were the owl, tiny little ant or little robin, or that the death was any was the little robin's.
There is one more thing i can and must tell you. The tiny little ant may have once escaped a stereotypical beginning to his story, but there was no way to avoid a stereotypical beginning.
This much i may tell you and this much i have. I complete my tale with an urge to take pity on every tiny little ant you see, for as we may never be certain of whether our tiny little ant has begun existing, still is existing or indeed has shuffled off this mortal coil, any you see may be him, and the events of that certain day have left him in much need of any small amount of love you could possibly spare him - his mind has become much less than it once was.
Finally i beg you, do not judge him for becoming a stereotypical ant.
But you can judge him for pushing his friend out of a tree.
Well that's more than i thought I'd write. I want you to disregard any change in the writer's tone, because I'm sure there's been some, but I'm in a very 19th century mood today. Hey, sorry if you hate the tiny little ant know, but this is the Way it is.
Get over it.
And with that i bid you farewell after the completion of a story that was begun almost two months ago. Had anyone remembered it? I hadn't - until i remembered it :)
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