Six Sentence Story -the Wakefield Doctrine-

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)


I love this painting. And, this being the Six Sentence Story, I thought, hey zoe will provide the word, let the photo provide me with ‘an atmosphere’.

Probably should provide a little backstory. I just finished writing ‘Almira’ and I’ve been giving thought to what to write next. Surely less that a full-novel, maybe a novella, you know, smaller, (with less than a year in time commitment). In any event, my second thought was, ‘damn, clark, you’d better hurry and learn more about writing’.

And so the Edward Hopper painting.

or something

This is zoe’s Six Sentence Story. A bloghop which invites all to take the week’s prompt word and write a story of six (and only and exactly) sentences. It really is fun and satisfying. Join us! This week the word is ‘Will’

Star let the night-dark shadows of the alley drape over her shoulders just enough to mute the natural extroversion of her long blonde hair, while still keeping the man and woman across the street in view, where they sat in a 2 am diorama, ‘Diner under yellow fluorescent lights’. She struggled with the necktie, over-coming her natural tendency to tie a playful bow instead of a small, hard, ‘none of your business, it’s been a long day’ knot. Cinching the belt into a newly punched hole, the extra length of leather stinking out like the tongue of an impudent child, she completed her change of clothes by forcing the last rebellious wave of gold up and into the sweat-stained fedora.

Hearing a sound behind her, the girl crouched down, “Ok, boy, you wait here, I’ve got a little business across the street to take care of and then I promise we will get something to eat.” In the canine tradition of cheerfully ignoring the ways and conventions of the humans they’d long ago adopted, his tail wagged side to side, which unlike a human, indicated wholehearted agreement and, without taking his eyes off the girl, backed into the shadows.

Star touched the brim of her hat and smiled at the bare leg protruding from the row of once shiny garbage cans, like the lower half of a semi-colon and said, “Thank you Mr. McLarty, I’d promise to return your clothes, but our stories will be more convincing if I don’t,” and she tucked a stiff parchment rectangle into the inside pocket of the suit coat, “Last Will and Testament’ protruding above the Brooks Brothers label and crossed the street on lily pads of street light and litter.


clarkscottroger About clarkscottroger
Well, what exactly do you want to know? Whether I am a clark or a scott or roger? If you have to ask, then you need to keep reading the Posts for two reasons: a)to get a clear enough understanding to be able to make the determination of which type I am and 2) to realize that by definition I am all three.* *which is true for you as well, all three...but mostly one


  1. UP says:

    “crossed the street on lily pads of street light and litter.” Every week I find something to cover!

  2. valj2750 says:

    It doesn’t matter what you write, all of your stories are filled with fresh and thoughtful description as well as that special edge that makes your style so pleasurable to read.

  3. Kristi says:

    I agree that the lily pads line was especially good!

  4. Very interesting six here. Love how you used the photo – one I also love.

  5. This was really good, Clark! When I looked at the painting it really called out for a rather sinister all-night-diner type of plot and you pulled it off perfectly! I hope you are planning to continue with this! Your words paint as vividly as the artist did, I can see her stepping out of that alley, and the dog waiting dutifully behind. Excellent, I want more!

  6. zoe says:

    I think i shared with you this is also my fav painting. Yes, I remember telling you I saw it in person at the Clark oh irony of ironies! I never thought of it as sinister….maybe a bit noir…great story

  7. R L Cadillac says:

    Great imagery–the first phrase will stick with me all day: “Star let the night-dark shadows of the alley drape over her shoulders”…