Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Six Sentence Story
Denise is the host.
So we’re back to everyone’s favorite, exclusive nightspot, the Six Sentence Café and Bistro with a Six about one of the part-time employees, the Sophomore. (Funny story about this character, he’s the protagonist in an early time travel WIP of ours.)
The prompt word:
RHYTHM
“You know, Nick, I’m starting to think there’s something weird about this place.”
As the truck pulled away from the loading dock, Nonesuch Chandlers, Inc ~Purveyors of Victuals, Provisions and Rare Delicacies~ painted on it’s side, gold letters glinting an orphaned ray of sunshine, the second-year-college-student turned to face his supervisor, who, in the short time of his employment, had become a candidate for ‘work friend’; surely as significant a feature of early adulthood as, say, voting in a national election or enjoying a major holiday alone in an empty college dormitory.
The man, who the young man was certain was standing behind him, was Nick, “the Gatekeeper” as the bearded man would say with a smile when in trusted company; ‘The Gatekeeper’, the article in bold font when he had occasion to enforce his, ‘No Assholes’ rule for those who would frequent The Six Sentence Café and Bistro, was nowhere in sight.
The nineteen-going-on-cheerfully-cynical student sighed the sigh of one accustomed to frequent discontinuities in social interactions; he bore Nick no malice, if anything, in the company of his part-time boss, he felt sufficient, and, to his amazement, the constant vigilance, integral to his world-facing persona, was unnecessary in this odd nightspot, perched on the edge of respectability, in an iffy part of town.
The Sophomore heard voices, from overhead, that created the most fundamental of human rhythms, statement and response; the verbal give and take between at least three, but possibly five people from the floor above where he stood; though the words were indistinct, he recognized some of the voices.
Laughing a laugh learned early in life as a way to neutralize the scorn of any observers, he tipped the hand-truck back on it’s two wheels and moved towards the elevator with: a brown cardboard box of liquor, a wooden crate holding bottles of wine, a shrink-wrapped bale of potato chips and a globe-like glass jar of maraschino cherries which managed to add something secretly carnal, yet comforting, off-setting the miasma of crumbling brick and concrete floors that exhaled a dust that couldn’t be brushed off.
About clarkscottroger
Perched on the edge of respectability… a fine perch.
I like how you used the prompt word, describing the sound of not quite heard voices, “the most fundamental of human rhythms, statement and response”. I could hear it (but couldn’t make out the words)
there was an not-surprisingly variety of the use of the prompt, mostly the physical manifestation of the word…your Six, as always, a delightful exception to ‘the Rule’
There is this, close to extinction, weaving technique I encountered at a remote village in China:
up close, you admire the craftsmanship – move a few steps away and you are blown away from what unfolds before your eyes. That is the time when you realize the effect those “unimpressive” threads are capable of.
End of metaphor, master Weaver.
*bull’s eye overall*
thanks, Man… this Six-with-context is way fun to write, (if not try to keep track of and/or coherent)… liked your own take with that added visual element
It’s great all over–and I related to this too well: “frequent discontinuities in social interactions” :)
ikr?
Hey, Clark, that’s almost exactly what I wrote this week!
The fricken Brontë sisters is all, if you want my opinion… muy creativio over at your refrigerator-door blog… seeing how you’re tight with one of the ‘Proprietors’ I’ll see to it you get on the Guest list at the Café lemme know what night
xxx ooo
Anne
Hi Anne, what a delight to meet someone with a bit of charm here, that big guy is hard work sometimes…
Is Saturday Night still All Right for Fighting?
lol
I’m a juvenile product of the working class
Whose best friend floats in the bottom of a glass,
Full Disclosure: I had to google the lyrics to get the above
A day where you learn is a day well spent.
True dat
(I often wonder how difficult it must have been for writers in the pre-internet days… it’s not like I am writing non-fiction here, but my (ostensibly) clever charm is totally dependent on Wikipedia, google et. al.)
Nice description of the student employee: “nineteen-going-on-cheerfully-cynical”. And description of the café: “perched on the edge of respectability, in an iffy part of town” in a building with a “miasma of crumbling brick and concrete floors that exhaled a dust that couldn’t be brushed off”.
Frank just picked out all my favs, except for the wine and chippies, that is.
Reminded me of lunches in the past in the Federal Hill section of Providence, RI
Definitely agree with sophomore:
“You know, Nick, I’m starting to think there’s something weird about this place.”
Thank you
Man, I fell in love with the truck so much… “Nonesuch Chandlers, Inc ~Purveyors of Victuals, Provisions and Rare Delicacies~” that images stays! Don’t know why exactly, maybe it’s my love of all things vintage?
I’m also liking that the Sophomore is starting to recognise some voices! He’s fitting in alright.
“a shrink-wrapped bale of potato chips and a globe-like glass jar of maraschino cherries which managed to add something secretly carnal, yet comforting, off-setting the miasma of crumbling brick and concrete floors that exhaled a dust that couldn’t be brushed off.”
… that is one heck of a line right there!
Cool Café Sixing!
yeah (between you and me) doing that (the name of the company with the truck) was my favorite part of this Six
…what would have been my other favorite, but I couldn’t find the words, was the maraschino cherry jar… it’s (in my experience of reality) just such a un-ignorable thing
the Sophomore’s a bit of a potential cypher for me…being a ‘real’ character from another WIP (mostly ’cause he was, in that story a 1st Person character… which makes him (in my less learned writing days, me)… or rather, the me that I imagined I could remember from my college days
mums the word, right?
:)
;]
It’s nice to land in a place where you can be you.
this is a true statement
“Laughing a laugh learned early in life as a way to neutralize the scorn of any observers,”
Ouch, that’s quite telling! Hope the party’s with those who let him be himself, at ease.
All references to a possible manner of relating to the world is fictional and made-up and, even if true, well, it was a long time ago and no one remembers
lol
Enjoyable, visual scene in the day of the Sophomore at his new part time gig. Not surprised he’s already gotten a sense of a “special” quality to the atmosphere at the Six Sentence Café and Bistro.
Of course Nick aka The Gatekeeper aka the bearded man would have a “No Assholes” rule, lol
Absolutely love the poetry of the last sentence.
Some rules are meant to be bent from time to time…not this one!
lol… we got that going for us, down to the Bistro
ty
fun
I hear those voices at times too… I have no idea what they’re saying either!
but hearing them is the first most important step