Start Fiction:
Harold Hadaway folded his flag as he did every evening, ignoring the Smiths who were on their porch arguing, again. He wondered what could not only bring two people together that genuinely disliked each other, let alone keep them together for over thirty years.
He paid it little attention as their antics were years old now; similar words, similar actions, no resolve. Garold chuckled a bit to himself as he walked to the house, his empty, quiet house to put his flag away for the evening. As he reached for the front door knob a loud bang sounded behind him, loud enough to make Harold drop to the ground.
He rolled behind the patio wall, taking cover, waiting for a second blast. It never came; it was silent. No dog barking, no neighbors yelling at each other, no screams of horror. Nothing. Hesitating, Harold began to lift himself to peek over the wall. Slowly ascending, he looked around quickly, seeking any immediate threats. There were none; Maude Smith was standing over Frank Smith with a shotgun, staring down at his motionless body.
End Fiction.
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