Once there was a town that had a knack for appearances, and it was called Arc-de-Ciel. Displayed in a circle, there were 12 districts, each with its own color theme, based on Claude Boutet’s wheel, the first color gradient based on a prism’s hues. Every house was a masterpiece, each roof was evenly slanted, every brick perfectly in place with not too much nor too little mortar in between each rectangle.
There was the Lemon Grove, each house was in varying shades of a warm golden yellow with white shutters, hanging lights and lemon trees dotting the worn-in-but- not-dirty sidewalk. Three streets over from Lemon Grove was the Sailor’s Grotto, a blue, clandestine villa with a pervasive scent of saltwater in the air, usually credited to Old Man Willy and his ancient sailboat, though his niece said he had not used it in decades.
Fiction Short Story
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