There was once four families who lived near each other in the neighborhood. Two of their houses were right next to each other on one street, while the other two were on the street behind them. They all moved in at about the same time, and though they were friendly with the other people in the neighborhood, they became particularly good friends with each other. The previous residents of their respective houses had built tall fences to separate them—of differing woods—so it looked messy and ugly. The new four families decided to replace them with shorter, gapped fences, so they could have conversations over them. They agreed to use the same materials too, so it would look more aesthetically pleasing. After the old fences were all down, however, they realized theirs was a silly plan. They were so close that there was no reason to be separate from each other at all. They instead only bought enough pickets to surround the outer edges of all of their houses, and kept their backyards open. Their children and pets were free to roam around and intermingle with each other. Over time, their relationships solidified further, and they wanted to expand their little subneighborhood into something more more substantial. One family agreed to install a pool in their quarter of the megayard. Another was responsible for the pool house/communal building. The third family built a dense and beautiful garden in their section. The fourth family kept their yard mostly bare, so the animals and children would have some room to run around, but also bought a small playground for the youngest of them. And in the middle, complete with extensions reaching to each of their houses, was a deck. It had a gazebo, and multiple levels, and an outdoor cooking area. Though everyone had their own problems, and even had some disagreements amongst each other, that deck, and all its peripherals, were always there to bring them back together.
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An unbiased new student, writing for a small town high school's newspaper, interviews the classmates of murdered senior, Viola Woods, to get to the bottom of this heinous crime.
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My name is Nick Fisherman III. It's not my real name, but that's not because I'm trying to hide from my former agency, or something. I named myself after someone I've known for most of my life, and he chose it in honor of his late best friend. I took up writing when I found myself failing 8th grade science, and realized I might never reach my dream of becoming a biochemist, a meteorologist, and a quantum physicist. I started developing my canon after a scouting trip to an island inspired what I thought would be my first novel. I founded this website upon the advice of many people, who told me I needed to get my work out there, and not wait for an agent to accept my manuscript. You can expect one new story every day. Weekdays are for microstories, which are one or two paragraphs long. They're usually only thematically linked, so you won't have to read one to understand another, but they do sometimes tell a combined story. Sundays are for my continuous longer story, The Advancement of Leona Matic, which I started in the beginning, and won't end until 2066. Saturdays are for long series, most of which take place in the same universe as Leona, and add to the larger mythology.

Friday, January 5, 2018
Microstory 750: Deck
Labels:
animals
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children
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deck
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family
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friends
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garden
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home
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house
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microfiction
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microstory
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neighborhood
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parents
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pool
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woods
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yard
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