Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
Wednesday morning warm-up for Thursday’s Six Sentence Story with clever graphic effects.
Zoe encourages, harangues and coaxes those of us with a jones for new arrangements of words to get our weekly fix with the Six Sentence Story. The prompt word is our starting point, where we end up… that’s the fun part.
This week thought I’d try something different. (lol when zoe stops laughing we’ll continue.) Old Egg often writes ‘Sixes’ that I read as remembrances of events from youth; they are both poignant and very engaging. So, this week I thought I’d try to write a ‘remembrance Six’ in the style of our friend from Down Under .
(Hey Old Egg! Dude! Not as easy as it you make it look.)
Stand
Through the endless last week of high school, the hallways echoed with the dissipation of stress, as exams were over, nothing left but to hand in textbooks and wait to be released into Summer; even the teachers were different, losing the rigid posture of authority, and a handful of the newer teachers even acted like regular people.
“Hey, could you give me a hand with this,” the boy looked up and down empty corridor, certain the girl was talking to someone else, “I need help to take this banner down.” The very pretty brunette, (the young man knew her name was Cindy, but then again, he also knew the names of all the Greek goddesses and the maiden names of most of the younger, attractive film stars), who stood in the doorway of an empty classroom inspired surprise, if for no other reason than the fact that she was: pretty, a senior, very popular and talking to him by choice.
With the boundless capacity of the adolescent mind to extrapolate, project, and imagine, all with total disregard for reason and reality, the boy watched a future life unfold involving love, sex (as much detail as his limited experience allowed) and most of all, acceptance by those around him…all in the time it took to walk five steps to the open classroom door.
He immediately noticed the record player on the desk at the front of the room and with an uncharacteristic disregard for consequences, lifted the tone arm over the rotating black disk and put the needle down at the very first track; Sly and the Family Stone, closer friends to the boy who spent his life in the social shadows and alleyways, began to sing, ‘…and in the end you’ll still be you.’
He looked up and the girl was still there and she was smiling…at him.
About clarkscottroger
You’ve caught the eternal optimism of youth.
seems so long ago and yet, there always remains that sense of realness in the possibility.
That’s such an amazing story ,Clark . Enjoyed it so much .
Thanks Moon. (I thought about the time frame for the musical element in this piece and how, in all likelihood certain writers among us might lack the pile of years that come from living back when the song was popular). I considered that I might be underestimating this factor, remembered that I got the song from a click on youtube and laughed at myself.
btw… 1969 was the year of the song and the story. (yeah, I know! that was a long time ago!) lol
Imitation is the greatest form of flattery. You’ve done a really good job as always, and I am a huge Sly Stone fan. Nice touch!
Thanks Paul… (this one was a classic in terms of the linkage to took me to the story. Thought to myself, Stand…. and then a song fragment, barely a discernible melody flashed in my head… youtube and the song… then, well then it was in the hands of the gods of music-memory-life-linkage! ayiieee 1967 first (my memories sometimes gets dates a little mixed up) and High School. and finally (and I don’t have a clue why the little episode (yeah, true story) should step out of the crowd of memories. The rest was simply write-rewrite.
Still listening to the clip first album (to be a hit) tons ‘o good songs on it.
Nice imagery. Well written.
ty
That’s an AWW… with capital letters and an extra “W” !
Because! as a clark, I can identify with all that was going through your head:)
Well done.
Thankee
Beautifully written (you are thinking like a teenager!) Your sixes have an unique and engaging style and I am sure everyone is eager each week to see how you surprise and entertain us. Thank you for your comments on my piece for I never know what will emerge until I start tapping the keyboard as I have no time for drafts!
Thanks. Your Sixes are like perfect movie scenes, everything the Reader really needs is there and, while implying past and future events, they come across, at least to me, as complete and self-contained scenes from a life. (now, your poetry that you’ve been doing more of, of late…that’s a whole ‘nother level entirely. don’t wait up for me to try one of those… lol totally out of my league.)
I agree about the ‘automatic writing’ element of writing sixes. For me, when it happens it’s very cool and more often than not results in a very good story-ette.
How cool is that! You even had a song to go along with this blast to the past. That fourth sentence pretty much sums up how quickly the young can imagine so many things, as far as they are able to understand, and do it all in a short span of time. Did he get to know her better that summer?
Thank you, Pat. It was! It’s amazing, isn’t how much music can chrysalis-ize* emotions (that exceeded our ability to express when the event occurred) and details (that seem to wait, in perfectly preserved condition for the right key to open the door.)
And, since you ask, I have to think long and hard (about what happened later in the story’s timeline), that being the other strange thing about emotional-memory… they are like jigsaw puzzle pieces, thrown in a box and put in the attic. Sometimes, when you grab a handful they form a wider part of the original puzzle than other times.
Yes, those are clever graphics. And though I had the 8-track, could not have brought up Sly and the Family Stone; well done. And a well threaded six sentence story. Seamless.
Thank you. Is there anything more effective to trigger a replay/remembrance of an event from the past than music? It’s just incredible how powerful (in terms of broad-spectrum recollection)