Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
Am sitting here at 2:30 typing my warm-up words for zoe’s Six Sentence Story. Yes, it’s early for me, but my email is not working and so I sit here, a 21st Century Odysseus being slowly put to death by silence. (…still no email!! ayiee! yes, I realize that only 12 minutes have past, but it is a long 12 minutes.) Yeah that Homer reference was a teeny bit too obscure (“dooh!!”). In any event, here is my Six.
Resolve
He set out in the early morning, in the way of all 12 year old boys, running towards the new day. He knew what was expected of him that day, and still he ran, we did say he was 12 years old, didn’t we?
Being still only 12 years old and therefore, statistically and individually, not fully mature, he felt an energy that did not automatically and instantly transform into work, this being a secret held non-consciously by nearly all 12 year old boys. If the embarrassing changes in his voice, Mother Nature’s subtle way of marking her second most favored experiments, were any indication, he was surely moments (or months) away from taking his place among the men of his culture.
He knew, without knowing, from that time on, more would be expected and less would be allowed. He resolved to run as he could, as long as he could, as the joy of this day would be a part of him always, remembered or not.
Don’t forget! Rob and Laura invite you to invite the New Year in the company of the witty and sophisticated, albeit mildly sardonic and oft times virtual ‘people’ at the First Friday Night Vidchat 0f 2017!! …. leave Comment RSVP or watch the Facebook, bring a friend, they’re all going to be there!
About clarkscottroger
2017? tthat’s a hell of a long chat! Wonderful story!
Wow I thought for sure I was making the rookie mistake so I didn’t say frist. But I will now! Capital F RIST!
FRIST it is!!
What a great reminder of how my boys were when they were 12! Happy New Year!
Looking back I think you have colored the perception of a 12 year old. I do remember those days and know I lived only for the day. Expectation was the last thing on my mind with so much to do that did not include the future! The future was merely tomorrow when I would cycle over to Bertie’s place and wander in the woods with him.
yeah, which raises that externally interesting question, for those of us who would write fiction, is there any getting away from our own selfs? and not just our own autobiographical selfs but our imaginarily autobiographical selfs?
This was awesome! I could feel the total joy and freedom of youth. I remember how wonderful that feeling was, before all the expectations of life weighed us down.
thanks J.
you know that the thing that I think I see the most, in the difference between youth and age… the lightness, even in something as simply as how we move… you can literally see the weight (or lack of) in the way people walk and move through the world
You nailed this.