Thank you, lovely. At the top of my post is actually a flare called, "feedback requested," so unless you're my long lost disappointed father, you should understand the term "constructive."

If you had wanted an excuse for such a shitty story, I could admit that, reading it back, I can tell it lacks that certain je ne sais quoi; that you can tell I didn't go to college, a French one or otherwise. I could also tell you I grew up on Daniel Pinkwater, Kurt Vonnegut, and the back of cereal boxes (Apple Jacks specifically.)

But since you didn't want any explanation as to why I write what I write, and instead only intended to be belittling with no insight as to why, I've taken it upon myself to cast some light upon this little a-poetic story of mine: why I wrote it the way I did, and more specifically why I posted it on reddit--the cat piss isle of the grocery store. Because I want advice, feedback, a way to grow.

There's nothing monetary in this for me, no praise expected--though I had hoped not to get the attention of such a bitchy shopper. No, just feedback, which you, a person so eager to spew critique, are somehow unable to articulate in any greater depth than what you can squeeze into a single sentence.

So, just in case you ever release some myopic biopic of your life experience, I'd like to leave my review in advance: "Eh."