Something is wrong with the universe

One shrill and piercing voice cried out in stiff and cumbersome language, "Fear has me!" Another deeper, manly voice exclaimed with desperation, "I feel so..." But then his sudden declaration trails unfinished into awkward and eerie silence.

The terrified crowd found it difficult to express in clear language just what it was that seemed utterly wrong with the universe. So there in the massive room, thousands of frightened men, women, and children sat in straight rows of deep red upholstered chairs, and their faces were drained of color, showing only fear, unable to say a word.

Their fear covered faces were now casting alternating dark shadows on the walls of the massive, but elegant room as they appeared to be searching for the answer. The answer they would never find.

The answer that is me, the writer. Though I am a kind and compassionate person, I haven't the heart to explain to these troubled and disturbed citizens what's happening. Yes, the simple reason they can't express themselves with any degree of speech is because I stole every last word from their universe in order to write this absurd and silly little story.