Microstory 2193: Unremarkable Piece of Wood

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As I warned you, there is nothing that I can say about our hiring process right now. We’re in a precarious position, and have to keep things confidential until the next step. But my work is the only thing I’m doing right now, and I don’t have anything else to tell you. What shall we discuss instead? How about I just make up a quick story for you? It’s been a while since I’ve written fiction. I kind of started to try soon after I arrived here, but nothing came of it. Yeah, I think I’ll see if I still have the skills. Here goes.

I don’t have any trees in my yard, nor do my neighbors. They had all been removed by the time my dog and I moved in here a few years ago, so I couldn’t tell you why. I see stumps, so they were there at some point. I bought it because there’s a lot of space for her to run around, and a really nice deck. There was a tiny little porch behind our old house, and she loved to sleep there, but she deserves better. One morning, I let her out to do her business when I discovered a twig right in the center of the deck. It had to have blown in from quite a distance away. I drew meaning from it that surely wasn’t there. Still, I tossed it over the railing, and it landed on the patio. The next day, I noticed it still sitting there, so I casually threw it back up onto the deck. I kept doing that periodically ever since. I would sometimes go out, and leave it alone, but sometimes switch it from one of its landing spots to the other. Again, it wasn’t every time, but it still felt like part of my routine. It felt like it was something that I ought to do, like a little game I played with myself. A few weeks ago, I was barking at my dog, trying to get her to do her thing quickly, because I was running late for work. It was really hot, so while she can normally just stay outside, I was going to have to keep her inside, and drive home during my lunch break to let her out again. I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing, and heard a crack underfoot. I froze there for a moment, certain that it couldn’t be what I thought. Perhaps it was only an acorn, or something. Of course, an acorn would be just as unusual to find here, but far less valuable, because that twig was mine. I carefully lifted my leg, and saw it sitting there. It appeared to be okay. It was still intact. I smiled, and picked it up. Yes, everything was going to be okay. I tossed it back up to the deck, and called my dog over, so we could move on with our day. She trotted up the steps, slower than I would like. She knows how impatient I get, but my girlfriend occasionally comes in through the garage, and she’s always sniffing around for her new mama, even when she’s not there. We got all the way up to the deck, and then I saw it. The twig was where I threw it, but in two pieces. It hadn’t survived my attack. I froze again, unsure what I was supposed to do now. It sounds so stupid, this unremarkable piece of wood, that I should care so deeply for it. How long would it have lasted if this hadn’t happened? I’ll never know, because I ruined it. I can’t concentrate on my work, or anything else I’ve tried to do. I think the incident just sort of forced everything I wasn’t happy about in my life to bubble to the surface. I dunno, I’m no psychologist. Life just seems so futile now. No matter how many times you’re able to toss that twig over the railing, it falls apart eventually. Everything ends. Everything dies.

Microstory 1536: Talking Animals

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This was probably the best ________ of my life, and that’s saying a ________, because I have had a lot of ________ great ________. My life is ________; I don’t let things get me ________, and I don’t suffer ________ who want to make me work too ________, or get ________. I was sitting on the ________ in my backyard when a little ________ came up to talk to ________. And I don’t mean that proverbially. He ________ started talking to me, as if we ________ the same language. It ________ English—in fact, I couldn’t tell ________ what it was—but it was absolutely a complex ________. I could make out separate words, and there were even a ________ cognates in there like ________, ________, and ________. Things seemed to be going ________. We were using ________ gestures to get our respective points ________, and picking up a few words here and ________, just based on ________ context. He appeared to be enjoying the ________. I was trying to hide how ________ I thought this was, for obvious reasons. I didn't know that ________ could talk, but I’ve always ____ed to * with ____s. I've been so ________ curious what they're ____ing about, how ________ they are, and most importantly, what they ________ of humans. I am no linguistic ________, but I did study it in ________, and this is a ________ opportunity. I try to work with ________, so we can have a better understanding of each ________, but I know I’m going to need some ________. I try to convey this to ________; that I’m going to need to contact a real ________ to help us, but he freaks ________. He starts ________ faster than he was before, and I stop being ________ to tell the separation between words or ideas. Then he ________ up to attack me, and I’m forced to ________ back. That’s why I’m here, doc. This isn’t just  any ol’ ________ that could be put down. You have to ________ him. He might be unique.

Microstory 750: Deck

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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.

Microstory 17: Slug

As I let the salt fall, it writhed and curled. Back and forth. Up and down. Sweeping through the granules that landed dry on the deck. In its final moments of torturous pain, it couldn't tell the difference between where there was salt and where there wasn't. It knew only that something was scratching and tearing at its skin. An unstoppable fire sucking the moisture from its body. I felt an unavoidable urge to explain myself. "I'm not a sadist." I stood up straight, looking for any more, camouflaged on top of the brown planks. "I just can't have you near my dog's food." But as I said the words, I wondered, were they true? My dog ambled onto the deck and sniffed at the slugs, placing her nose firmly against their lifeless bodies. She opened her mouth, contemplating whether she wanted to try one for breakfast. She snapped at it a couple times. "No!" I said. She looked up at me as if to say, who do you think you are? Then she snapped at one again. "NO!" I said with more fervor. She looked up again, what is this? I don’t even... "Don’t eat that," I said. "It might have ingested pesticides, or something." If she had shoulders, she would have shrugged them. Whatever. She walked over to the corner of the deck and dramatically plopped down on her side. Wake me up when there’s legal food.