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.
Hosted by Denise, there is only one rule: use the prompt word and make the sentence count: Six
This week’s prompt word:
TRUCK
The sun, skulking through the stands of chestnut and birch since sunrise, gathered unnecessary strength, rose above the tree line and ate the scrawny shadows of the people walking along the dust-dry road. Being a Saturday morning in June, the company store played coercive host to the mountain families, down from their tar paper shacks that clutched at the steep side of numerous hollers fanning out from the small coal town.
“Decent folk,” the man, seven days late for a shave, spit on the ground, make-shift italics on the adjective, followed the trajectory of his saliva-and-hate projectile with the focus of a battle-weary sniper, “naturally know to keep to themselves.”
“But, Pa, he’s different,” his daughter, at the threshold of womanhood, heard the tremble in her voice and felt something powerful and undefined pull against the bonds of family; her submissive role at once comforting and yet, clutching the way the ground does at the edge of a swamp.
Hooking his thumb through the strap of his threadbare overalls like a soldier would the strap of his Enfield, stubbornness armoring his face even as a trill of something like fear feathered it’s way down his back, slowed his words, “You might think there’s only him and how it makes you feel, but family comes first and our family don’t have no truck with that Montague boy and his kin.
Loading the small wagon with the necessities of life on loan from the Company, the sun stared down on the town in soundless rage.
*
About clarkscottroger
The Sun gathering unnecessary strength gives a clue of what’s to come.
foreshadowing?
lol. wish I could claim it was intentional… maybe someday
Sweetie lived in such a place. His father was pastor of the church there and there was no law in that parish. It was a long four years.
He goes back to visit a couple of friends there, and notes all the clans are gone, they mostly killed each other off.
damn! the world surely is crowded with stories we don’t think would sell
Nice descriptions: “seven days late for a shave”, “saliva-and-hate projectile with the focus of a battle-weary sniper”, and “the sun stared down on the town in soundless rage”.
thanks, Frank
Wow.
There are so many parts of this that I want to compliment.
– That first sentence was *chef’s kiss*.
– “saliva and hate projectile”
– “her submissive role at once comforting and yet, clutching the way the ground does at the edge of a swamp”
– “the sun stared down on the town in soundless rage.”
– the fact that this is a Romeo and Juliet retelling.
Brilliant, Clark.
thankee, Miz ‘orlings
:)
thank you emoticon (or emoji or whatever they call them) ;)
I always have a hard time leaving a comment. I don’t know how to follow you. And hopefully a smile thing will appear. I tried to answer you from the notification of your “thank you” but something told me there was an error. lol Maybe I’ll be lucky this time.
(running through sayings and statements involving luck, even as I type) assuming the worst re my internet skills, I’ve gotten into the habit of copying my comments prior to hitting ‘Send’ Nothing worst than the most erudite and sublime commentary on a friends post only to have it eaten by the machine.
man, what’s not to like about this here internet here…
found this (after 754 renditions by Ole Blue Eyes)
Good one.
Thanks, Chris
One gem after another. I like it!
back ‘atcha
Your double (Six and ‘corn) were simply amazing.
Searching for the adjectives…..
Shall I simply say, one of your best Sixes. Excellent scene setup. Descriptive to the degree emotion is palpable. You’ve provided effortless visualization of the characters and this moment in time for them.