Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is a Wakefield Doctrine contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop.
Hosted each week by Denise, the rules are simple, the stories are always a surprise.
(Not that it will provide a ‘Oh, I get what this is about...’ context to this Six, (lol) But, what the heck… Previously in our story
The prompt word:
SILK
Sybil Trainor couldn’t sleep.
The time was three-oh-three in the morning and the other two people in her shared dorm room were asleep.
Lying on her back on the left side of her bed, wearing a Harvard Crimson sweatshirt and a mis-matched pair of Bomba socks, she fought a growing resentment towards both of them.
Her sleepwear benefactor, currently a hedgerow of blankets, random muscle-twitches and wheezing that would put an old bulldog to shame was a now-unlikely arm’s length to her right, while her roommate, Mai, had sarcophagus’d herself in blankets and pillows, a retinue of childhood stuffed-animals an ineffectual buffer against the sonic enthusiasm of Sybil’s return shortly after midnight.
The sweatshirt she wore, very much not her normal silk nightwear, with ‘Truth’ in Latin on the chest, amused her, but not as much as imagining how it would embellish her transient spouse’s tales of conquest upon his return to his fraternity; earlier in the morning than he might expect, the thought bringing a smile with just a glint of the feral.
Despite the sense of energy and power simmering in the two young, albeit non-conscious, students, Sybil Trainor could not fall asleep; there was something just outside of her mind’s reach, neither a threat nor an opportunity, more a sense of familiarity.
About clarkscottroger
You sarcophagus’d (!) the hell out of that mutha smudged charcoal.
All cylinders fired. Sit back and enjoy, now.
thanks, Nick
Sarcophagus’d herself… what a description! 😀
ikr?
I had to look up “Bomba socks”. They really do exist. Nice phrase at the end describing what’s keeping her mind occupied: “neither a threat nor an opportunity, more a sense of familiarity.”
my wife loves ’em*
therefore, an easy gift, right?
She’s more than a little feral. The claws will come out, the wise will watch and know the signs.
ikr, right?
(but this business of ‘writing new’ about established characters… not to assume everyone ‘becomes’ the character to some extent, great or small but there is a feeling of risk when trying to find new aspects (of characters) but then again, maybe that comes with being a clark?)
Another sleepless night, to the tympanic symphony sound of the male body
Oof!
lol