Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Wakefield Doctrine’s contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop
Denise is the host.
The prompt word:
BOOKMARK
The bandstand at the Six Sentence Café & Bistro on this particular Thursday evening was a dim square surrounded on all but one side by round tables embedded in smoke-cirrus clouds, marked with sporadic flashes of cigarette lighters. The center of the stage was occupied by a microphone atop a chrome diaphysis and the tall, thin man; the sole light was an invisible sun that created a three-quarters profile penumbra, skewed towards the audience.
“Bookmarks”
the voice of the man spread into the dark club with a weightless density, descending on the faceless audience like waves on a shoreline; some obliterated by water-resistant rocks, much of it absorbed by the shifting sand, all, eventually returning to the source.
“Our lives are a book with chapters;
many a bookmark for the long and epic, or single title page, brief and pure, providing no details while accepting no limitations.
We write our sins and failures in ink;
we note, in the margins, our dreams and hopes in pencil.
The completed volume itself is an artifact of eternity;
reviews and accolades incomplete, as the final two words are invisible to the author.”
About clarkscottroger
Clark…please send me a narration, so I can mix it with the jazz tones!
I love this for more reasons I can express here…but some of them will come your way.
I cannot single out any sequence of words…damn…so,
“We write our sins and failures in ink;
we note, in the margins, our dreams and hopes in pencil.”…(lol, I just did!)
You cruel, evil, Weaver…you could have waited until I could have a drink with this beauty!!( have a warning next time…not to be read before 9pm lol)
Bravo maestro…bravo.
(and…thank you.)
The pleasure is all mine.
That tall, thin man surprises me sometimes.
(Don’t tell ceayr, but I could smell the air and taste the atmosphere… one of those ex-smokers who will veer to walk through a group of outdoor smokers)
Your wee place is going to be shut down with all those folk puffing out maliferous fumes.
And wouldn’t that be a loss to the world of literature…
Thanks, c
Like our dreams, the virtual world allows us our vices and our admirable qualities.
“Our dreams, and hopes, in pencil.”
An artful phrase for our pursuits in the penumbra called “life”.
Well done!
The smoke-filled room in sporadic shadow emphasized our uncertain paths!
Thank you, Susan
Nice description of that man’s voice on his listeners: “with a weightless density, descending on the faceless audience like waves on a shoreline”
yeah, not that I’ve done it in a lifetime, but being on stage before an audience is kinda special
My tome’s written in invisible ink, Clark, up to now, and those last two words you hint upon aren’t even on the horizon. In fact, I don’t think I’ll use those words, and replace them with three others… to be continued…
That (replacement with three words) holds a secret of immortality! The reflexive nature of experiential continuity… I am because I recall (a year, a month, two keystrokes ago) the elements of my existence. I must be immortal or this reflexive existence would collapse backwards from whatever point in the future it might occur and, seeing how it hasn’t happened, it can’t.
ya know?
I would rate this as your best work, from the ones I’ve read. Sadly, there’s no Reblog button.
Thank you R
A wise speech by the tall thin man. ‘We write our sins and failures in ink; we note, in the margins, our dreams and hopes in pencil.’ He’s right, that’s what we do, and yet… And yet I can’t help thinking it should be the other way round. And the final phrase is powerful too ‘…as the final two words are invisible to the author.’ Nice one, Clark.
I agree with the ‘should be the other way around’. Perhaps it is (for many)… for myself I hedge my hopes and Sharpie sins*
*lol ayiieee
As always, a masterwork.
ty, mm
Very memorable, thank you.
Briliant Clark, you transported me back to The Poets Corner, a cafe I frequented in 70’s London.
Thank you, Keith (as for most of us, I suspect, fashioning a story to facilitate personal time travel, is the most noble of ambitions)
*she unconsciously shifts in her chair, unaware she’d leaned forward, elbows planted firmly on the edge of the small table, her chin resting in cupped hands as the tall thin man’s voice spoke his poetry…voice captivating, it was his words that mesmerized, as she acknowledged their truth”.*
Thankee, Miz Moderatorae
The Thursday Night Spoken Word Night at the Café was always a success, until that new smart Alec emcee we employed (an ex cruise ship entertainer and circus lion tamer) decided to give away free tobacco to returning Thursday night customers and incorporate stand-up comedy routines in between the poetry readings. Take my wife (please), forty years a smoker and she tries everything to give up. Finally she tries acupuncture, and it worked! The doctor put holes in her cigarettes.
lol
I don’t you’re old enough, but I remember when the Tobacconist Hegemony, sensitive to the effects of the lying medical profession, gifted us with low-nicotine cigarettes…forget the brand name. This put frickin holes in the filter. lol I distinctly remember the pride in effort when I found that all I had to do was have some tape nearby, to restore the cigarette to it’s normal, proper functionality
No not old enough, but I do remember a good hack taught to me by ‘older friends’ in the early 90s, who would attach tobacco rolling paper around the filter of low tar cigarettes which were factory-punctured with holes. The paper would make it stronger-tasting! Same concept, ay?
Can also remember as a kid in the early eighties being sent by my mum to the newsagents for a packet of cigarettes… holy heckness, they actually served kids back then lol!!
(couldn’t resist…) Imagine the drive with the family to the relative’s for a Christmas visit… six hours. Both parents smoked. Remember the triangle vent windows in cars, especially the front? While letting out the smoke was not their primary design purpose… we non-smokers were kinda grateful.
Full Disclosure: Smoked by choice from college on about twenty years then stopped. (Still like the smell.. wish those smoker clubs on the sidewalks and in parking lots would come back! I’d totally cross the street to walk through them.)