Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Six Sentence Story bloghop.
Hosted by Denise.
Six Sentence Minimum (and Maximum)
This is another installment of our serial story about dark doings in Victorian East London. It will totally enhance your enjoyment of this Six to go to The Whitechapel Interlude If’n you’re new to the story, that is
Prompt Word:
Station
When her hunt began, in the depths of Whitechapel, darkness was abundant and there was little need to stay close to walls and ledges, the people, growing up in a world of half-light, were blind to her presence; she smiled in appreciation at the half-conscious warding-off gestures that greeted her, superstition tugging at the sleeves of reason.
Westward, she moved, from alley to lane, then streets and sidewalks, her passage increasingly the tour jeté of a predator moving among sparse and intermittent cover.
Keeping close to the buildings that lined Cheapside, its shops and stores causing eddies and pools of humanity to form, as they grazed and thrived on the pedestrian flow; she saw her prey change strategy.
The man her prey was stalking had stopped and, in turn, his follower took up station in front of St. Paul’s cathedral; her inner hunger flared as opportunity became irresistible.
Her lips turning up into what is usually perceived as a smile, by all but the source of her elation, she prepared to leap; despite reflexes drawing on more than a mere five senses, she had only time enough to feel the lightest of touches when the dark of night flared into light.
Brother Abbot, pulling the woman close, lovers newly met for all the surrounding humanity might assume, sat on the granite ledge with its wrought-iron fence that surrounded the church serving as backrest and watched as his acolyte continued their assignment.
About clarkscottroger
its shops and stores causing eddies and pools of humanity to form, – great line. great six.
ty, man, ty
Always a surprise, always leaves us wanting more.
thank you, M
Thanks for the reminder to click the link and read the previous installment. I appreciate the jar to my memory. The scene that came to mind as I read the second sentence was quite different after going back to read the previous installment.
This (current) thing with ‘Sixes as chapters/installments’ is interesting, don’t know if I’m going to continue, at least not to the original plan (every week, one serial or the other)
The notion of a micro novel is intriguing, not so such a nano serial can sustain itself. The inherent flaw, at least in the context of modern readers, is the baseline of experience, do we want to ‘Check back next week! For another thrilling installment of ‘the Whitechapel Interlude’ (or) ‘the Case of the Missing Fig Leaf’
Great imagery.
The vid was a perfect compliment, imo.
Interesting story. Look forward to the next installment.
Wow!!! Ive made another brief foray into blogging at the right time!!! Victorian London is my all time fav. Literature setting…This is GREAT! Im off to read the rest!
Got me a second doggy….posted…
Zoe….ee! ‘sup! It is such an made-for-learning-to-write era, no? You must post photation on your new acquaintance!
I did. Get over there! Lovin the new writation a la Clark!
Excellent doggy you got to join your pack. No better place for a dog what needs the extra whatever it is that only good dog people like you can provide.
Dark, moody, and restless. You capture that essence of old London well. My fave line is:
“the half-conscious warding-off gestures that greeted her, superstition tugging at the sleeves of reason.” … Conjures all sorts of insecurities and ancient rites.
Another good chapter here in this dark tale.
‘preciate it, V
Interesting process to get as much of the feeling for the time/place. thank god for google maps, (I always spend as much time ‘walking around’ my story settings, as much as possible. but what’s the deal with the buses in London… ya can’t google walk six feet without seeing nothing but the sides of fricken buses!) as to the atmosphere, I laughed in surprise at one article on the roads in London back then, when they tried wood (’cause asphalt wore out too quickly and the cobblestones were tough on the horsies)…in any even, (according to this source) the wood roads were not merely planks laid out, but interlocking blocks of wood… that’s right! the streets were parquet… lol
the downfall was, as usual, the horse… the urine and other horsie byproducts would get absorbed by the wood, just waiting for summer.
ayy…eee
I can’t wait to find out what happens next.
Ha, no way they did the roads in parquet? Good idea I suppose, but as you say… come summer, eww!
That’s cool you research the locations via maps o get a good ‘walkabout’ eye.
Before the red buses I reckon London was just as packed with Hansom cabs?
See ya on the next page man!
ten four to dat, good buddy*
*well, sure the least I can do is quid pro your sharing of the actual Europeland**
** not a ‘real’ geopolitical destination
Wall to wall and treetop tall!
In t’early 80s, my friends and I had Tandy handheld CB radios, what a fun craze that was!
Isn’t ‘Europeland’ a theme park? :) I got my ticket, plus lederhosen and clogs packed!! (already wear a beret as standard).
breaker breaker
Had a CB, never plugged it in.
Did, however, audition with a band in a country music bar in the mid ’70s. The tune was Movin On (“the white line is the life line...”). At not a single one of our practice sessions, did our lead singer share with us that he’d never performed in front of strangers. Just sang like Merle was a ventriloquist with a Willie Nelson dummy. Quite a good voice. Until the houselights went down, that is. Froze. Solid as a rock.
We continued with an impromptu instrumental version of the song. Got a hand truck and wheeled Marcel off the stage.
Didn’t get the job. lol
Ha! That’s a story right there! Which instrument did/do you play?
guitar (it was the seventies) lol
no longer play*
* I stopped when I started writing this blog. Under no circumstances will I touch an instrument now.
lol why take a chance, ya know?
I have to say, I am very intrigued with the role of Brother Abbot. He seems to be at the heart of all this mystery and guiding the players along. Suspenseful, as always, Clark.
Same here (the role of Brother Abbot), and you may very well be correct, as to having a significant role in the story. (As I tend to say in reply to comments for this serial, I am as intrigued as you and the other Readers are as to where this story is going).
(Hey… given how you started this thing with your time traveler* can you give me any ideas, insights into this guy? Anything would be appreciated, physical appearance, mannerisms, likes dislikes)
*yes, the changes that were caused by time travel in your original Six have been undone, either by an agency dedicated to keeping the timeline intact or the natural result of chronological momentum (‘the tendency of events being sequential tends to preserve the nature of the sequences and will resist change and, if changes, will seek to return to previous sequence.’ First Law of the Conservation of Similarity
Another great imagery loaded six! Well done!
Thank you, Lisa
“superstition tugging at the sleeves of reason”
I want that! (Not superstition, just to have coined that phrase) So much action, but in a slow paced restrained way; suited to Victorian London I suppose. Well done, Sirs.
lol
Is there any higher compliment than to have another writer (one further up the path of the craft, at that), say they would like to have written something that we’ve written.
hey, anytime you’d like to do a ‘walk-on’*, just let me know. I would totally enjoy that.
*there being plenty of room, plotistically-speaking for someone to appear in the story that moves the plot along, I’d provide the scene with enough ‘room’ (in unspecified characters or open-ended situations) and get it to you in plenty of time to have some fun. (Example; in this, the most recent scene, we have tons of people moving along the sidewalk and in carriages, the evening has almost completed it’s first, faux-chaste hug go the night to come.)