Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
Each week Denise provides a prompt word and invites us all who would participate, to write a story of six (and only six) sentences.
I was talking to Denise the evening before last about the ‘writing of Six Sentence Story(s)’ and we got on the topic of ‘how to’. I mentioned how enjoyable it is to see others write…maybe not prologues as much as ‘asides’ (for would that, more properly be ‘before’) to their Sixes. Val and Pat have been writing ‘intros’ that not only are interesting insights into their ‘process’, but for me, an additional way to learn-by-imitation.
In any event I said that if I have an idea (for a story) I still need to decide on the outcome, i.e. how would I have the Reader react to my story. Do they laugh or frown, smile and look around in the hopes of finding a clue or simply click on the next …Six Sentence Story.
This week the word is:
WAKE
The doctor, trying to find the balance between urgency and routine said, “It’s called ‘sleep paralysis’ and, unfortunately, it’s increasingly common among men of your age; this is for Ambien but what you really need to do is exercise more and worry less.”
Trevor Eldridge, smiling as men do at the end of a doctors visit that did not involve further testing, thought, ‘I didn’t get to where I am today by spending my days in the gym and I wouldn’t be next in line for manager if I didn’t love my wife so much’, stood up and shook the doctor’s hand with one hand and accepted the prescription with the other.
The soon-to-be-promoted to Manager of the Eastern Seaboard Division lay in bed unable to open his eyes; with a hot flash of fear he failed to recall in any in his recent bout of nightmares, eyelids being paralyzed with the rest of his body. Remembering the doctor’s prescription sparked a short feeling of relief as he remembered the end of his evening adding a few over-the-internet sleeping pills while thinking, ‘I can’t afford to nod off at the board meeting tomorrow’.
Resigned to waiting out the dream, he heard distant voices, growing in volume, if coming closer to his bed and thought, ‘Thats odd, usually it’s just me frozen in my bed; no lights, no people talking in the dark.’
“Trevor hated the idea of a wake, much less an open casket; although, the undertaker did a wonderful job, he looks like he’s sleeping.”