Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Six Sentence Story bloghop.
Write a story of six and only six sentences. Make it about the prompt word. Link it to our host Denise’s blog and all will be well.
(It is a matter of record that my interest in writing developed fairly late in the game. For the record, I can point to the month and year I started caring about picking out words and lining them up in a pleasing fashion. June 2009 That was when this blog started. Yet it wasn’t blogging that fueled the desire, it was the Wakefield Doctrine. For reasons not fully understood, even today, I was seized by the need to spread the word, explain and illustrate our little personality theory. The ‘writing for writing’s sake’ (and for the sake of acquiring skills), was but a byproduct of this drive.
And this has what to do with this week’s Six Sentence Story? Got to lay it on the music vid. Straight outta Haight-Ashbury* and it, like most emoto-biographical songs and music, I was totally back….way back in the day. And, short version, I was wondering what I might write, had I had the interest back in high school and college.
Hence, the double Six.**)
Prompt word:
MIGRATION
You make this unnecessarily difficult, at its heart, writing a Six is as simple as causing a migration of the right words out of your pre-conscious, down through fingers and up on the screen.
(err are you sure you aren’t forgetting something)… jostled into an attractive coherence by the commas and periods and …and!, surely the demi-god of punctuation, the semi-colon; moving as unpredictably as the bishop in a chess game played by over-tired, four-year-olds, it grants the writer renewed stamina and room to explain the theme; at least we hope it will.
(looks good, but…)
Oh… the audio! Of course! Where is that switch… do we prefer ‘mono’ over “stereo”?
“By all means, the modern Reader will accept nothing less than full-fidelity, yet there remains something lacking. It’s like well, it’s like, ideas without reference to everyday items and actions that suggest the quality we want to accentuate…. our friend the metaphor, like a really nice suit, tailored and fitted to a tee, begs to be worn everyday, maturity, in lieu of skill, reminds us that often, less is more.
Bonus Six
MIGRATION
Time is a wind moving all, often suddenly without warning, sometimes so gently as to be mistaken for standing still.
The haste of life, at its beginning a migration of the flesh, subdividing the whole into parts too small to see, yet too powerful to ignore. The motion of man and woman, creation and life, is heir to mortality, carving a path that is distinguished only by its compulsive novelty.
Fuel of the self, thrown into the fire, without thought by the young, measured and carefully by the mature, lends the illusion of light and it’s bastard son, understanding.
Finally the memories, like birds with crooked wings and round-stubbled feathers drawing closer to one and other, fly towards the waiting darkness, each drafting to uplift the other, form a single whole for the briefest moment before they become part of the night, stripped of individual identity, to rest and await another migration.
As all things find an ending, life continues the creation, adding one to another, through endless time.
* thanx and a tip of the do-rag to NWA and them, for the phrase
** non-sequitur? somewhat