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 each week by Denise, all we’re asked to do is write a story of six (and only six) sentences.

Prompt word:

KICK

“On this we can agree.”

Despite being extremely expensive, the music system unexpectedly flared into pre-LED colored light, heralding the unmistakable plastic-flop of vinyl onto turntable; the 100 proof-silk sound of Curtis Mayfield began to confide raw truth of life for those on the left up-slope of the Bell curve.

“Not to be rude, but what, not counting your fanciful oeuvre hung on being a time traveler, encourages you to presume that?”

The Sophomore’s lips compressed into a non-committal line, even as his eyes skidded across the direct line-of-sight with the other man; the haplessly-optimistic part of his mind ran scratchy newsreels of manly hugs binding self-absorbed veterans returning from battle. Medals and campaign ribbons, official tokens of instant depreciation to be treasured only when alone, the better to survive the emotional kick of a lethal fetus awaiting entrance to a loud, noisy world, barely hinted at the true extent of his wounds.

The tall, thin man stared at the visitor on the far side of his desk when one of six phones skittered to life, a deaf-mute sand-crab demanding attention in a surprisingly arid world; swiping the screen into the cell phone equivalent of a coma, he looked at the Sophomore and rose from his chair.