Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
The word is ‘CAST’
The format is Six Sentences (only) Story.
zoe is our host
CAST
The long, green-tiled hallway was lined with closed doors, slanted outwards at the ceiling above each, white-frosted clerestory windows were waterfalls of earnest, young voices. The boy’s hand tentatively brushed the shiny-soft brass doorknob.
“Mrs. Avery, Mrs. Avery! I know!” the gender-temporary contralto echoed of summer forts and late sunsets, the boy stopped outside the classroom.
“Yes, Keith, please come up to the front of the class and give your report”
The cloud-dark September morning began to clear, the door at the end of the hallway spreading a light carpet, the trapezoid flowed from the glass and raced towards the boy’s untied shoelaces.
“Paul Revere was a silversmith in…” the earnest voice faded as the boy ran down the hallway, the die he could not remember throwing, already cast.
(Thanks to our guest characters: Mrs. Avery and young Keith)
Very good- but I expect no less!!
thanks… but it was (in part) Keith and ‘ShiftnShake’s fault… lol
It’s difficult to avoid inspiration when you read others’ stories. I’m off to check. Love the shadow cast by the sun through the trapezoid window.
hey Val! good to see you… I almost didn’t write a Six this week but then Ms. Shiftnshake and Keith like, totally ambushed me this morning, so what’s a lifeform to do? lol
Changed my mind. Throw the keyboard at the gargoyle. I don’t even want to know how you got our picture. Did Keith give that to you?
don’t laugh! I spent a couple of years during grad school living in a third floor apt much like that in the photo. Thanks for the muse-ificationing!*
* not a ‘real’ word
I’ve been away too long, I suppose. Definitely missing the background here.
me too!
lol… no background (to the Six) other than the romantico-nefarious machinations of two bloggers who will remain nameless*
*but one rhymes with Leif and the other rhymes with…. with… lol
Yeah, that part I got. LOL.
Excellent!
tt!
“the gender-temporary contralto echoed of summer forts and late sunsets”… “the trapezoid flowed from the glass and raced towards the boy’s untied shoelaces”…absolutely perfect.
Thank you, D