Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Six Sentence Story bloghop.
It, (‘Six Sentence StoryA1), is our contribution to the larger set of posts that, combined, represent this week’s manifestation of the Six Sentence Story bloghopA+N Taken as a group, [A+Nx], are this week’s collection of stories of six and only/precisely six sentence in length.
…Denise is the host.
The prompt word:
IRON
“What’s this thing,” new PF Flyers allowing a preadolescent en pointe, Jeremy finger-hooked the wooden handle of a dark metal triangle, all but out of sight on a cobwebbed shelf.
“It’s an iron,” his mother’s voice came from a distance not physically possible between two occupants in the same attic; had the boy been older by a multiple of adolescence, he might’ve identified the faux-leather and date-embossed book in her lap as the cause of her distraction.
“Where’s the power cord,” arm muscles pulled on his shoulder like a sailor holding the railing of a capsizing ship; being naturally athletic, which is to say, ‘young’, he let the weight get almost free of his grasp before transforming its downward path into an upwards curve.
“It doesn’t have one,” using the the two questions to break free of the emotions lurking, like ancient runes scribed with a felt tip pen across it’s glossy pages, she paused before opening the yearbook, detritus of the psychosocial battlefield of high school, for the moment, un-mourned.
With a pause that could not be mistaken, at least in a mother’s imagination, as her son’s sprint into the realms of his mind, racing up and down corridors lined with bookshelves of lost or not-yet-understood information, Jeremy laughed, “So it’s like a panini maker for clothes?”
Laughter fractured her mood, the pieces re-assembling into the memory of a girl determined to find the book at the end of the rainbow, its wisdom sufficient to make her seem just like her friends; Jeremy’s mother pulled her son close, both laughing at the endlessly fascinating puzzle of their respective worlds.
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