Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Six Sentence Story bloghop.
It is hosted by Denise.
The Rules are the simplest. Write a story involving the week’s prompt word, six and only six sentences in length.
Something cool occasionally happens, here, at the Six Sentence Story bloghop. A story gets written, consciously or otherwise, that turns out to be only a beginning, the first six sentences are a narrative seed that promises Readers more about a character or a circumstance or, even, a setting. Susan wrote such a Six, about a boy trying, for perhaps the first time in his life, to navigate the treachery of adults. Miz. Avery has given us, not merely a story, but a small corner of a world populated by very real, and quite engaging people and, most recently, Rhen has been letting us witness a relationship develop in the story, Bedelia.
This week, we return to a story inspired by a Six by Len, titled ‘Time Travel’. My ‘follow-up’ to his tale did not have a title, so let us call it: Episode One.
Episode Two follows.
This week’s prompt word is:
RANDOM
My quarry had done his research, Inverness cape over frock coat allowed him a degree of anonymity; his mistake was not in design but in condition, new clothing demands attention, immaculate new fabric, well, clothing like that pushes observers on the shoulder daring them not to notice.
I followed him out of the darker streets of Whitechapel as the afternoon stumbled into evening, the transition was subtle, the sun, in its journey across the sky, was a most unreliable of narrators, due, in no small part to the soot-laden fog that hung over the cobblestones, like the flatulence of sleeping giants, buried beneath a newly decrepit city.
My task was to report on the activities of our visitor, not difficult, even if he did not stand out in the crowd; time travelers are like children in a candy store, pre-rehearsed discipline vanishes as the immediacy of the place they’ve spent lifetimes dreaming of exerts itself, as irresistible as the gingerbread house of Hansel and Gretel.
As I’d anticipated, leaving Dorset Street, he proceeded up Commercial Road; unconsciously my lips drew into a smile of self-congratulation, even as the echo of Brother Abbot reminding my class at the end of our first year in the Order, “Proverb 16:18, people! take it to heart, pride doesn’t just goeth before the fall, it is the Fall; we are all just one stepmother away from being as doomed as the children of Eve.”
The visitor and I moved through the poverty-congealed crowds like sharks though clouds of minnows; his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he tried to catalogue all he was experiencing.
Walking, we shared a territory, but not the map; like a swarm of insects that moves randomly while individuals came to the forefront, hollow-cheeked children and empty-eyed women, blindly sensing an opportunity for food or money, moved towards any and all opportunity to survive, even at the expense of their divine spirt, the spirit intended to distinguish them from all the other creations that filled the Garden.
About clarkscottroger
I enjoyed reading your amazingly rich description. I especially like the expression, “the afternoon stumbled into evening.”
Thanks, Romi
The imagery was as well done in the six as it was in the music video; sad but well done.
That last line, i want to weep.
thank you?
…the writing thing is such an odd activity for people to indulge in…but satisfying.
Excellent, Clark! Very descriptive phrases that point out the differences between the haves and the half nots, and yet “we are all just one stepmother away from being as doomed as the children of Eve.” I agree with Phyllis about the video. This was a perfect choice to go along with your SSS.
yeah, their take on a childhood classic demonstrates the power of creative people.
Even skimming the surface as I am, the conditions in Victorian East London… ayyieee… yet, sadly, not unique.
Totally enjoyed the “ride”. This story intrigues me. Just this side of dark, it is a tale I would enjoy reading more of. Sentence 5 is too much of a tease so “please sir, I want some more.”
Thanks
A superb piece, teeming with old London grit, grime, poverty, observation of surroundings and placement within it, the strong and imposing proper nouns to give extra clout, and a narrator you feel has many tales to tell.
Blimey Guv (Woah dude), wot a jackanory (cool story)!
the stumbled into evening line is epic. Great six. super yo!
thanks, man
Very descriptive! This is a six of pints, not mere 12 ouncers!
GIQs for ever’ one!
like the flatulence of sleeping giants, buried beneath a newly decrepit city. Eww but what a great description :)
thanks for the …er heartfelt compliment lol
You’ve certainly painted a clear picture with words! Nicely done.
Thanks, Kristi… didn’t really (unfortunately) have to make too much up
Analogy. Imagery. Words. Masterful.
Thank you, Lisa
I like his sense of fashion and also the ‘ empty eyed women, blindly sensing an opportunity………You do have a way with words, Clark. Great atmosphere too.
Thanks, Len. The fashion thing was challenge thank god for the internet! Liking the setting for this serial Six.. ‘spect we’ll be hearing more from our member of the Order of Lilith
Such vivid imagery! And you used the word “flatulence”. Well done!
lol
thankee Miz Dyanne