the Wakefield Doctrine

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.

Along with the first Six of this week, by way of some backstory, here read this: …previously at the Six Sentence Café & Bistro.

(We recommend you catch up with Mimi this week, or, (and it will make us feel so ‘way to be clever with the story interlinks!) clink on the first Mimi hyperlink as you read the Six below.)

This week’s prompt word:

FILM

“What the hell just happened?”

The rather juvenile and, surprisingly unsophisticated expression of surprise by the tall, thin man was as jarring as the disappearance of the Sophomore moments before as six of the Proprietors of the Six Sentence Café & Bistro looked on in varying degrees of astonishment.

Their individual commentary on the event was as characteristic, (if not idiosyncratic), as to be expected: the GateKeeper after drawing mightily on his Opus X, sent what could only be described as a, ‘smoke square’, out over the empty tables surrounding the bandstand, unlike it’s cousin, the smoke ring, it tumbled through the air rather than rotating; for his part, Ford executed a single rimshot on the snare drum, currently serving as a tray for his drink, (somehow) it possessed echo without reverb, a true koan of percussion; Jenne closed her book, (producing a sound more associated with a vacuum than a plosive); Chris signaled both concern and simpatico, and Denise said, ‘Huh‘.

Moving to the kitchen, the currently-acting manager, over-dressed for anything other than delivering a eulogy for a misunderstood head-of-state, straight-armed the swinging doors and stopped short, as the seventh Proprietor, at a lower than normal line-of-sight, was washing the floor with a decidedly 20th, if not 19th century, cleaning implement.

Knowing better than to express surprise, the tall, thin man crouched next to Mimi, noting with a smile the hint of a tiny convex rainbow on the bubbles in the wash-pail and, for reasons that partially hinted at his qualifications for his current position, remembered the stories his parents told of first seeing the contrast between Kansas and Oz in the 1940s film; maintaining a nearly-stable posture, he took a rag from the stainless steel countertop and began to dry the clean-water trail on the ceramic tile floor.

With a smile at once wise and a touch wicked, Mimi laughed, “Not a word about students and Masters or I’m Nobody will be all over us for multi-tasking a cool saying in a comment; leave the floors to me, you need to get the plot in something even slightly resembling a credible narrative arc.”

*

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.

This week’s prompt word:

FILM

As is the case with most premature, if not too-goddamn-early, awakening in the morning, an axiomatic warning of fundamental design-failure of human beings, follows the first attempt to swallow. Why Man, (or Woman), must contend with a practice-run of the third most fundamental physical function so immediately upon return to consciousness has been a mystery to physiologists, evolutionists and first-date lovers since Time decided dawn would serve as the day’s starting gun, at least until alarm clocks were invented.

If flesh were unfired terra cotta, (employed by an impulsive, if not impatient, god to create the apex species in a hurry, like a Sunday evening science project), the difference would be more difficult to find than a glass of water without too much water in it.

In a contrast that defies anyone to claim coincidence, the next hurdle, in preparing for a day of activity, is even less enjoyable, much less attractive to observe, especially by the aforementioned couple beginning a non-hormone-assisted interaction.

The film, seemingly everywhere on the body, clamors for release; in an unintended positive outcome, it often is concentrated in the eyelids, rendering their otherwise quite attractive functioning much like a jelly sandwich dropped on the beach by an impatient, and hungry, five-year-old; on the positive side, vision is blurred which is beneficial to the now-quiescent drive to perpetuate the species.

All in all, despite the film and the terra cotta, human beings manage to transition from sleep to active functioning with a modicum of grace, thereby allowing the depiction of lover’s morning awakening in countless movies and films to be enjoyed without the slightest cognitive dissonance.