Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Wakefield Doctrine’s bi-weekly/semi-monthly/every fourteenth day contribution to ‘the Unicorn Challenge‘.
Hosted by jenne and ceayr, the challenge is the most simplest of all: see that pitcha down there? Write a story that involves it and do not, at hazard of Heimdall (his friends call ‘im Doug) calling you out for exceeding the limit of two hundred and fity (250) words.
(Apologies to Shirley Jackson fans. Not my fault. The line showed up on my doorstep as soon as I saw the photo)
“…and Dust to Dust.”
I couldn’t resist the pulling towards the house. If the experience of witnessing a sunrise includes feeling the pressure of light, heat and the day’s possibility, this moment, invisible to all others, could be nothing other than sunset.
“The path he took was lined with books, the mark he left: secret bent-page corners, insight into humanity serving only to drive his further search. An insatiable curiosity, for our brother, was both journey and destination, albatross and crucifix.”
The house, the one in which I was raised didn’t merely grow in size as I approached, (or was being transported to), it became an increasing certainty. Certainty in the way birthdays and holidays are, so inevitable that most people felt no need to remember them, they happened when they happened. Reassuring for no other reason than everyone had them.
“He was a quiet man, but kind, even if tending to be distant in social settings.”
The rooms were exactly as they always were, filled with family. All the time. Always helping and teaching, correcting and reminding me to come out of my shell. To learn to live.
“We close this memorial service with John 14:1-3 ‘…Father’s house many mansion…'”
My God! The voices, the whispers, the memories growing in the air… Rather than Dante and his guide to damnation, I should have paid Shirley Jackson heed…
Whatever walked there will never be alone…
About clarkscottroger
I liked this a lot, what I understood of it.
I regret that I am unfamiliar with the work of Ms Jackson, and your title, Freyadaya, told me nothing.
So I don’t know if the words in quotes are your own or if they are indeed taken from elsewhere.
But I did enjoy the writing, and the dark inevitability of the story.
thanks for the feedback… this one was more of a struggle than I expected when I started… mostly with the formatting. Trying to convey the contemporary events with a view from the dead person, reflecting on the house he grew up in…. and
always have trouble with that
but that’s why they call it writing practice, right?
An American author Shirley Jackson The book she is most known for is ‘The Haunting of Hill House’ truly a seminal ‘haunted house story. It also contains one of the most outstanding first paragraphs:
“No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met nearly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.” (italics mine)
Powerful writing indeed, Clark.
And Freyadaya?
(don’t tell jenne*)
just a quick play on Freya and Friday…. Freya’s day? see??!! lol
* silly is cool, until one is required to define the rationale. The nuns in my grade school knew that intuitively. “Since you find that note interesting, Mr. clark, why don’t you come up to the front of the classroom and share it with everyone.”
I think this is a fascinating piece of writing, Clark.
The back and forth between the plain words of the funeral celebrant about the exterior man and the more powerful thoughts – or the more powerful journey – of the deceased man works really well.
I feel a thread of menace running through, and culminating in the final quote from Shirley Jackson. (Memo to self: investigate Shirley Jackson, but not late at night.)
I doubt there’s going to be any ‘eternal rest’ for this particular soul.
(PS ‘secret bent-page corners’ – oh yes!)
thanks, j
(don’t tell anyone, but I started after reading ceayr’s story and, as always, I thought ‘How does he do that?!’ (i.e. simple narrative, engaging opening, surprise ending) and ‘headed in that direction’. But then, as I’ve referenced, Shirley interposed herself (were you inclined to watch the movie version, I recommended the Claire Bloom version (as opposed to the Zeta Jones) this one: ‘The Haunting‘)
as always appreciate the feedback (no promises on not going down the path-best-not-taken lol) I’ll eventually get that trick down enough to do both (styles of writing)
“Just when I thought I was out, they pull be back in” – Michael Corleone
That me, reading this superb piece, Clark. The ins and outs of a man’s thoughts during his final journey home. Powerful stuff.
Absorbing, mesmerizing yet so relatable.
(love that quote! only those of us who have seen it can hear the frustrated-rage that Pacino did so well)
thanks
There aught to be a ‘talk-like-the-Godfather’ day … don’t you think?
Mi piacere.
… “I’m smart. I can handle things!”
Poor fucking Fredo. Not even a Hail Mary worked. 🚤
lol
Excellent and downright spooky.
thankee Miz M
My mind has been spellbound for several minute. Excellent, Clark.
(and now it’s Bohemian Rhapsody)
yeah, excellent tuneage, non?
Interesting story, Clark. I’m curious if the person who was being memorialized regretting a lack of faith and where they were going, or a spirit haunting the house?
a bit of both…sorta
if anything, the house would be haunting him, if there is such a thing as a ghost in heaven*
perhaps it was to be condemned to all the well-intentioned efforts to help a private person become a public (aka social) person
* I would hazard to say, there are nothing but ghosts in hell