Six Sentence Story -the Wakefield Doctrine-

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

This week the prompt is PITCH.

The challenge, of course, is noun or verb?

zoe is the host and this is (the) Six Sentence Story. One word to start, six sentence limit to the finished story.



A steady howling and an insistent clanking noise, one striving to hide its power in constancy, the other reduced to a muted-metallic shout conspired to pull the man from the deepest part of sleep, that secret moment after the last dream, but before the first tugs of a dry throat or insistent nudges from a full bladder.

The trawler moved through the storm, the building seas turning it into a stationary car on a fluid roller coaster, sudden dips and hairpin turns of tracks that moved on their own instead of waiting to be passed over and left behind.

The young man lay, one leg bent perpendicular to the other, foot and knee wedged against the up-curving hull on one side and the raised side of the bunk on the other in the time-perfected posture that allowed rest without constant vigilance. The low ceiling of the crew quarters spared an observer the view of six crewmen, each posed in perfect replica of ‘the hung man’ found on Tarot cards, worn quilts and rumpled underwear serving as motley clothing of sleeping jesters.

“Time to set in,” the first mate announced, pulling on the twine to the bare bulb hung between the ceiling beams of the fo’c’sle, lighting the bunks that curved up and forward to the bow, like store shelves over-flowing with un-tidy dry goods. The waking men rolled from their berths, unconsciously synchronized to the pitch, yaw and roll of the vessel, curses and invective filled the air, harsh morning prayers of desperate bravado, a working man’s substitute for virtue offered to the gods that waited in the vastness surrounding the boat. 


Tee Hee o T -the Wakefield Doctrine- “and a side of arrrts”

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

‘A street sign taken to heart. Car and canine pause, the world waits.’
(Landscape Orientation)
A photo of Una ‘riding shotgun’ as we begin our walk.
Una is in close profile, the left side of her face illuminated from the sunlight coming through the car’s windshield that makes up the entire left half (from top to bottom) of the photo.
In the center top of the windshield (or, perhaps it would be better to say, ‘through the windshield ‘) there is a ‘Stop’ sign, every bit the municipal lollipop that you might imagine, were we all to end up in a good-natured Bosch painting (or perhaps an updated version of the animated movie, ‘Yellow Submarine’ (which, for the record, you couldn’t not love, at least not while claiming to still be young))
The Stop sign is all octagonal officialdom and the street that passes perpendicular to the street we are on is visible as a smooth, grey-blue patch against the winter browns of the hay in a field on the far side of the street. To the right of the ‘Stop’ sign there is a square stone column. Not quite a tower or battlement, it’s the kind of decorative structure that used to be popular at the entrance of residential developments. There would be a pair, one on each side of the street. Perhaps it gave the residents a feeling of security that, should the need arise, a tall gate might be closed, the two stone structures providing a secure anchor point. Or something. For all of the popularity of gates on a residential neighborhood, an actual gated community in this part of the country is more the exception than the rule. As well it should be, what can keep strangers out serves just as well to keep people in. A prison is that which separates some from the others. The relative numbers determine the virtue.
Yes, Una is sitting in the front passenger seat and we can see her face for a change. As luck would have it, we are driving into the setting sun. The light provides the opportunity to see her face. The light causes her to rest (and protect) her eyes. They are nearly completely closed.
One can be forgiven for venturing, ‘A dog, do they ever completely close their eyes?’ And, (as) one, I might say, “a lot less frequently than you might think.” Even lying on the couch (or the bed or the floor) dreaming of slow-running rabbits, the activity in the eyes of a dog is surprisingly consistent.

Humor is a funny thing. (Remember in college, the discovery of new music and art was like that second step into the waves at the beach, the one that just preceded throwing yourself in to the water, knowing that the fun had to do with coping and not doing? In that case, the waves were there already and the fun was, (hopefully), to do what makes swimming in the ocean fun. Finding new music was, at that time, much the same… “hey! you gotta listen to this band, this song..wait  wait  this part coming up.” And you look at your friend with hope, as they get to the part you found so amazing and they’d get a look on your face that, in the alchemy of the friendships of the young, was a look of gratitude and brother/sisterhood as they discovered that you share one more thing in life.)

…yeah like that.

Stephen Wright

Woody Allen

(Sunday morning… 10:58 am)  ‘Hey I was just watching this with Phyllis and saw something that I never noticed. Diane Keaton (and her character Annie Hall) are the epitome of clarklike females. I won’t go into a long discussion other than to say, “Watch the scene (1:09 turn up the volume) where her parents suggest that Dwayne drive them to the airport. Annie leaves the scene but you can still hear her talking…” This Doctrine is truly a wonderful thing.


Jim Gaffigan

One Two Three


Thanks especially to Val. In one of her recent posts did some excellent poetry which reminded me that poetry is not necessarily distantly inaccessible. Shout-out to Carin who can actually do a whole TToT in verse. (damn!)

this guy

Over the wintry

forest, winds howl in  rage

with no leaves to blow.

(Soseki (1275-1351)

and maybe a painting or two.

oh man! A(nother) chance to illegally reproduce one of my favorite paintings!

Nighthawks is a 1942 oil on canvas painting by Edward Hopper that portrays people in a downtown diner late at night. (Wikipedia)

We better stop and take a count!

lets see… five plus Una and Phyllis minus the Sunday Supplement minus the Free Grat Item and minus SR 1.3 Holy Smoke!

6) Phyllis

7) Una

8) Sunday Supplement (check back tomorrow)

9) ‘Your Grat Here’  (anyone in a position of really wanting to participate but are not able to do a whole TTOT post…. you can borrow one of ours! No, serially, send it in and we’ll go right ahead and post it. We’re the Wakefield Doctrine where you can never be 100% of a lot of things. ya know?)

10) Secret Rule 1.3

We’re done!

Wait…. gotta shout out to Josie Two Shoes  hey! Josie! thanks for puttin on the ‘hop this weekend.

So you know how I keep saying, ‘learn the basic characteristics of the three worldviews and then look at the people around you?’ And, of course, by ‘people around you’ I mean anywhere, including music videos. And by characteristics, I mean, ‘by their posture and attitude, actions and reactions, from which of the three realities (that of the Outsider, the Predator or the Herd Member) would they seem to be relating themselves to the world around them?’

I submit this video. Good song, great illustration of the three worldviews. In the three lead guitar players you will see a clark, a scott and a roger.

The roger and the scott might at first be a little tricky. The clark? lol


hey! this is the TToT


Finish the Sentence Friday -the Wakefield Doctrine-

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

This has been another Friday of…. wait, that’s the closing that Kristi uses at the end of her FTSF. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m gonna go ahead and copy/paste that thing right up front here at the beginning. Given the tendencies of posts here at the Wakefield Doctrine to… shall we say, take the off-ramp that clearly has cones and those fence-looking barriers and such. It might be in everyone’s best interest to let you know what it is we’re supposed to be writing about.

the sentence prompt “I’m really afraid that/of…”
Write about spiders, a fear of heights, our political climate, or anything that makes you afraid or think of fear in general. The link-up will stay open through late-night Sunday evening. Write and then visit either Kenya G. Johnson at or me at to add your blog post to the link-up.
Hope to see you there!

Ok, now that we’ve gotten the Public Service Announcements out-of-the-way, on with the Finish the Sentence Friday prompt:


“I’m really afraid that/of…

…I will be subject to scrutiny that is beyond my ability to control or, failing that, influence.” (Spoiler Alert! Spoiler Alert! I just inadvertently tipped my hand for the ‘big finish’. damn!)

Lets start this over again.

“I’m really afraid of the things that instill, inspire, instigate and otherwise install the premise of fear in my mind.” Before anyone is tempted to think, ‘yeah, real original, clark. FDR did that back in the 1940s, at least according to my (current) history books,’ permit me say that although politicians are not normally thought of as the go-to people for philosophical conundrums and Westernized koans, consider what the guy was reputed to have said,  “We have nothing to fear but fear itself.” Jeez Louise! I can’t have been the only kid who heard that and, after the other kids got tired of yelling, ‘Hell yeah… If I was old enough, I’d throw grenades and charge those pill boxes’ and hitting the next smaller kid on the shoulder and running off to do something fun without girls, thought, ‘Oh man! It’s true. There’s no escaping the feeling of fear and dread. The president just said so.’

Despite how I felt (ok, sure, possibly because of how I felt) I ran after the pack, yelling, ‘hey guys! wait for me.’ And they slowed down just enough for me to almost catch up.

And so the young Outsider, surveys the social terrain and accepts the fact of life that, like the taste of a certain apple, once fear has been acknowledged it can be escaped only temporarily.

(New(ish) Readers of the Wakefield Doctrine. Yes, the designation of ‘Outsider’ is a reference to one of the three personality types. The clarks. The other two, Predator and Herd Member correspond to scotts and rogers. There is a rule in the Doctrine, referred to ‘the Everything Rule’. What it states is, ‘everyone does everything, at one time or another’. What it means is that, using today’s prompt, all three personality types experience fear. Because they are a reflection of three different personal realities, what fear is, or, as we say, ‘how fear manifests’,  is a reflection of the character of the world that the individual is experiencing. This is a long way around to say that for me, as a clark, I would substitute the word ‘scrutiny*’ for ‘fear’. It makes a lot more sense. And god knows, clarks really need to believe that things to make sense.)

While I might simply and clearly describe what causes me to feel fear, it is helpful to remember a paraphrase(d) saying, “What doesn’t kill me, shapes my world.” In the (personal) reality of clarks, fear is like rain. It is an ever-present fact of the world. It makes us believe that we feel disappointed (the day at the beach being ruined) or grateful (that the crops will have a chance to survive or angry that nature is being indifferent to our wedding plans. We, most of us, believe that our emotional response is caused by the rain. We have a choice. The same with fear (in the world of clarks, that is). We have the choice of how we feel. Unfortunately for our people, emotions are very much a, ‘at arms length’ transaction (as the real estate people say). But it is available. The choice.

[This just in!! Realtime example. Fear is trying to make this post go on and on. We, all of us who would throw our thoughts and words out to the world, know why that is. Because suppose they all …. fill in the blank with your favorite self-imposed vulnerability.]



*scrutiny: From Middle English scrutiny, from Medieval Latin scrūtinium (a search, an inquiry), from Vulgar Latin scrūtor (to search or examine thoroughly), of uncertain origin. Possibly from Late Latin scrūta (rubbish, broken trash”**); (

**  no! really look it up! broken trash?!!…. who the hell are they calling ‘broken trash’   lol





Six Sentence Story -the Wakefield Doctrine-

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

Sitting at my ‘desk’ waiting for the sun to turn the glass in front of my desk back into glass, rather than blackboard and chalk. Six Sentence Story warm-up day is what it is and I figured I’d interrupt my solitaire-as-meditation session and mess of the plain white space of a blank post.

So rumour has it that zoe (the host of this here bloghop here) has given us the word ‘DRESS’ as this week’s prompt word. (For new Readers and participants to be) the idea is to write a story employing the prompt word and, just before hitting ‘Publish’ be able to count six periods. No more and no less. (As implied, the goal is six sentences. Whether you’re going the James Joyce ‘do-you-see-anything-in-my-head,-real-or-imagined-that-suggests-that-I-am-thinking-in-simple-noun-verb-object-constructs-if-so-please-point-it-out’ style or the more familiar Hemingway ‘I can do that. Six sentence, right? Sure thing.’ The fun is in the process (and so is the devil and for some reason, God.)


“Do you like my dress, Mr. Devereaux?”

Simone Sans, the newest dancer at Bottom of the Sea Strip Club and Lounge stood half a menu away from my right forearm, the reflective fabric of her dress tried to be a mirror and failed quite enjoyably.

I sat at my usual booth, ashtray and ‘silver’ware standing guard on my drink, the tabletop, all ring-stains and cigarette burns had been shellacked so many times it looked like petrified wood. I smiled at the twenty-going-on-lost girl, “Sure, I like it, but I thought you were in the business of being non-dressed?”

She laughed and hip-bumped my arm, the playful gesture an unstated compliment; in her line of work, physical contact with the patrons was as un-professional as a neurosurgeon bringing a meatball grinder into the operating room, nothing in the rule books says you can’t, but it wouldn’t be wise.

Simone took a half-step back, did a pirouette ending in a curtsy which caused the hem of her dress to rise upwards, the hint of pleasure as subtle as neon on a bar sign.



TToT -the Wakefield Doctrine- “The Factotum of the blogosphere.*”

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

“Bella. She could fly when the mood struck her.”
She was Phyllis’ dog (as Ola was mine).
As much as dogs are referred to as being God’s gift to humanity, Phyllis (as Bella’s alpha) stood by her with a selfless dedication that such gifts deserve but don’t often receive.
(Landscape orientation)
The background of the photo is familar and out-of-focus, to no ill-effect. Halfway up is the green with brown (of pine needles) lawn. The top half is of the woods that surround the lawn. Fuzzy small pine trees punctuated (from right to left) with the dark vertical bands of tree trunks of the taller trees. A humble spectrum of colors suggestive of the red shift that indicates an object receding at great speed.
Speaking of speed.
Bella is captured (by the camera) mid-leap, mid-air as she catches an orange frisbee.
I believe (correctly or not) that I once read that Picasso was (in one phase or another) attempting to depict motion by presenting a series of ‘flattened’ images.
Bella appears, at first glance, to be a two dimensional image. However the focus is quite sharp on her, especially in her midsection. Only then do we realize that what we thought was merely an out of focus background is motion, a trick if the eye often experienced In that secretly paradoxical way when watching an object move against a static background.
Bella was quite the dog.


“…since brevity is the soul of wit,
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,” (Shakespeare’s ‘Omelet’ Act 2 Scene 2)

Best take the Bard’s advice and get this done.


1) Phyllis

2) Una

3) the Wakefield Doctrine

4) *(lol) The fun of the internet and the ease of accessibility it affords us to all sorts of things, including but not limited to a music video of a famous aria, complete with (translated) libretto.

5) bloghops:

Finish The Sentence Friday  with Kristi and Kenya and a bunch of very talented writers killing the Photo Friday

Six Sentence Story Zoe  speaking of ‘the soul of wit’ these guys rock the micro-flash fiction

the Ten Things of Thankful Josie and them

6) our host Josie Two Shoes

7) **Available Guest Grat Item.**
(If there is anyone reading this post who likes the idea of posting items of gratitude but, for one reason or another is not able to put together an entire post, send it in as a Comment and I’ll copy-paste it here.)

8) Sunday Supplement

Guarding the home and waiting for summer. Una watches the woods sleep.
(Landscape orientation)
Alternate title: ‘Of triangles and parallelograms’
The top half of the photo is of our backyard, which is separated from the pine woods (‘fill-in’ green along the top edges of the photo). The separator of sickly-green lawn from lush, left-alone pine trees is a rail fence. Two parallel rails connected by round posts.
At the bottom of the photo is the corner of the deck off the back of the house. In front of this corner sitting on the grass, with her back to the camera, is Una.
She the the only solid color in the photo. Solid (but shiny) black. Her ears form a v, almost like the notch on an arrow that the string sits in, prior to being launched at a target.
Kinda apt, no?

9) Sunday Supplicant (ask nice, now)

10) Secret Rule 1.3 (op.cit.; “…[t]he completion, either approaching or realized of a list of Ten Things constitutes a legitimate item (for said list) and may, achronistically, be appended , placed in or other{wise} be included on said list, (Loc. cit. TToT, 01-27-2018)



Click and join us…. really, go ahead!