A bit of silliness from 2006 that I wrote after I confessed to hating a certain food...
Under cover of darkness they came, hoods drawn up to hide their faces. A soft knock on the door, a whispered password, and they were let inside the hobbit hole, and the door locked behind them.
This night there was a new arrival, a tween trembling with fearful anticipation. When he had shyly told a friend, he had never dreamt there were others like him.
He stood in the center of a ring of chairs. Bolstered by sympathetic, encouraging smiles, he drew a deep breath and confessed: “My name is Tobold Bolger and… I hate mushrooms!”
The applause was deafening.