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:

BRANCH

In the realm of nightclubs and bars, the circadian rhythm that rules Man’s body, if not his mind, eschews the natural sunrise/sunset cycle in favor of ‘dark-enough’/’is-that-the-sun’?

At half-past responsible-adults-are-home-with-their-family, the house lights of the Six Sentence Café and Bistro flicker, the crowd, demonstrating the near-mystical coordination of micro-entrainment, reduces it’s collective susurrus and the tall, thin man, alone in the hallway at the far end of the bar, leans into the intermittent darkness and, harnessing the imbalance, walks out into the crowded room.

His path to the stage is a bit like slow-motion pinball; acknowledging the people at the many round-top tables, his trajectory a series of branches, created, and one might argue, defined, by the social landscape rather than the physical.

To maintain the arcade game metaphor, for surely you are already beset by mental images of chromium orbs, oddly conical stubs that ring with a mid-Twentieth Century carefree tone and, looking down, (with your mind’s eye), you see the paddles and feel the tendons tensing as they disappear into the palm; your world for the moment, a mixture of sound and light and the pre-human glory of The Chase.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” shielding his eyes like a sailor on last watch as the edge of land breaks the hopeless curve of the ocean’s horizon,

“…and Lou,” a new voice joins the chorus of encouragement, a sound you might expect if crocodiles had night clubs and it was Comedy Night.

“Please join me in giving a warm, Café welcome, to some people you’ll believe you’ve always known, ‘Two Guys and a Girlie‘”.

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