Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
Another week already?*
Denise is opening the little door, in the far corner of a high-ceiled room, (in a house that seems to have more ‘down’ than ‘up’, little do we realize…), to reveal this week’s prompt word for our Six Sentence Story.
(To drag the pastiche, leaving a somewhat greasy trail, to the end of this intro), in the corner of this room, on a table with legs like an old, abused marionette is a slip of paper that says, ‘One story contained within six and only six sentences; follow these directions precisely and you will be rewarded by the reading and appreciation of your fellow Sixers.’
The prompt word:
FLEXIBLE
“Miss Mori, your table is ready,” the maître d’ lead us to the terrace where, beyond the single, white-clothed table, the lights of Suzhou reflected in the river like tears clinging to a lover’s face.
I held back to watch her walk, her body was not merely flexible parts moving together, rather she was a symphony of both invitation and demand, sheathed in an iridescent gown; my face flushed realizing how alone I stood, staring. None of the other diners, all individual manifestations of the essence of attractiveness, looked up from their tables, as if bowing in respect to the sophisticated beauty of my Bombyx.
I managed to get to her chair before her and stood, tool-scarred hands clutching the delicately carved wood and waited for her nod; surely the most superfluous of attendants, as her body moved as she willed, never awkward or off-balance.
“So this is our last night together, my love”, from across the small table she slowly looked up into my eyes; the final sunrise of a still vibrant life.
Before her, the bowl of mulberry leaves overflowed in a green avalanche, “You know that this is not the end, it is simply a stage; I will return to you on the quietest of wings and caress your body with the most precious of fabrics,” she smiled and began to nibble the broad, green leaves.
* am I the only one who, by chance pause for reflection, laughs at the absurdity of that statement? I didn’t think so….
About clarkscottroger
Wow…wee. Blown away by this one. Well done.
Great as always!
thanks, man
This was beautifully done, Clark, verbal excellence with descriptive elegance! And I must say that your intros are every bit as intriguing as your stories! :-)
Why thank you, Josie! (yeah the intros are fun and totally helpful, so I don’t seize up at the sight of an empty white page…lol)
And today your blog accepts my comment, while yesterday it wouldn’t. Maddening, but thankfully successful!
I get it now. Very good :)
ty
A metamorphosis, metaphor? Your writing is lyrical and sensuous and beautifully descriptive.
thanks, val
(and, btw, what I really want to learn to do, half as well as you do even in a short Comment like this one, is write words that have a rhythm (…“lyrical and sensuous and beautifully descriptive“) if I was a poetry-guy, I betcha I would know what the meter is on that.)
Wow! This is truly a work of art in so many ways and beautifully written. Timely too. I saw a large yellow butterfly flitting around our place just yesterday.
Thank you, Pat. (gotta love them juxtapositions of worlds, no?)