Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
Hey! A new arrival on the shores of Bloghopencia.
So, we got an email yesterday (or, maybe it was today) from Jenne and C.E. inviting us to join in on a bloghop they were inspired to start. ‘Inspired’ is, imo, not hyperbolistic.
One of our hosts is crazy-lyrical in her prose and the other… let’s just say, ‘benignly-anarchistic. (lol)
The rules? A photo and a 250 word limit.
It’s fun and you couldn’t ask for better company. Please do not allow our being invited to affect your decision to join in. (Hey, like no one has ever failed to vet a mailing list and lived to regret it.)
Photo prompt:
The hissing came first.
His awareness of the sound was more threshold than renewed capacity. It was this hissing, and it’s near-but-undefined tone, that focused the world. Proximity being to self-awareness as breath is to life, so the sound transformed, quite without participation of the man, seeing into looking.
The rest of the man’s senses cascaded from this shift. While still heir to many additional ways to relate himself to the world around him, to look at his surroundings created a perspective that was uniquely his, rather than merely a characteristic of his surroundings; he was now himself.
Self-awareness, like the earth to a fertile seed, once stable, allowed the rest of his senses to come alive. The man began to remember everything other than the sequence of events that lead to half-sitting on asphalt, a warm wetness defining his skin. Moving eyes rather than head, he took an inventory of the objects, still without names or context, in his surroundings.
Twisted metal and spinning circles captured his first attentions, but were far too abstract to convey useful information. Light, as has arguably been the case since Genesis, did, however, take claim on his attention.
Resting on the same level as the man sat, like a fundamentalist preacher descending from his pulpit into the congregation, the traffic light claimed dominion over the man’s day for whatever remained of it.
The simplest of instructions manifested in primary colors: stop, reflect upon your place in the world and proceed.
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Just to make things simple… easier, below are the links to the inaugural stories from our hosts.
Jenne: ‘Who Knows Best?
C.E. (hey, you’re the adventurous type, right?) ‘Crossroads‘
Doug Jacquier: ‘WWWally’s everywhere‘
About clarkscottroger
Y’know, Clark, when you use fewer words but more sentences, your writing is very entertaining.
I love this piece, it’s hugely satisfying, and the vibe puts me in mind of something I really like but that’s just escaping my brain!
Thanks for your support, much appreciated.
funny but “…something I really like but that’s just escaping my brain!” accurately describes my state of mind while writing it this morning.
(Don’t tell anyone, but at more than one point in time I was, sifting through the words in my draft like a box of beat-up jigsaw puzzle pieces. I knew (or chose to believe) that if I kept at it, one word would connect to another and eventually a story would form)
Excellent!
My take on this prompt would be something to the effect of, what has #2 Son been up to now?
The fact we still have a couple of old construction zone signs in our back yard attest to the fact that the question would not be misplaced.
My reaction, at the end of this piece, elicited several colorful words (complimentary I assure you), but which I shall not use in public. Instead, allow me to say, “I quite enjoyed this story.”
Skillful execution describing your MC’s recognition of “displacement” in reality gifted by, what is implied, a serious accident.
My favorite parts? The last 3 “paragraphs”. I promise there is no pun intended, when I say they had a powerful impact.
What a beautifully written and deeply reflective piece, Clark.
What’s in the water over there? Each week brings a more finely crafted piece of writing.
Something hovered round the edges of my mind too as I read.
It was the use of ‘the man’ and his growing awareness and relation to his surroundings that reminded me of somthing I read about a hundred years ago by Pierre Teilhard de Chardin.
Funny old thing, the mind…
And PS, thank you for supporting the venture!