Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
Unseasonably cold in this part of Oceania, hence the clever title, which if combustible, would have already been busted up and thrown on the fire. (Metaphorically, of course… the clever, not the combustible)
this is the Wakefield Doctrine’s semi-weakly* contribution to jenne and ceayr‘s photo-prompt bloghop, the Unicorn Challenge.
Simple enough rules: Muse on the week’s photation and write a two hundred and fifty word (or less) story.
They say the world, as it appears at night, is reproval of the certainty with which we hold our assessment of the people, places and things that occupy us when the Sun rules all.
We stood and stared across the harbor.
To say we stood in silence would be as inadequate as a parent telling their child that someday they would grow up and be happy.
The mundane solidity of the second-hand car, it’s engine quietly ticking, the automotive equivalent of constrained groans of an octogenarian returning from the garden on an intoxicatingly-mild day, provided non-judgmental support as we leaned against the front fender.
The space between us, sipped at by secret inhalations as we tried to create the most neutral of settings for words that could do nothing but hurt, remained empty. The once carnal heat that flooded the space between us was now dark energy, forcing our worlds apart.
“I need to leave.”
The lights of the sailboats were at once pointed to an infinite ocean awash in stellar plankton and luminescent krill, while, their reflections were anchored to the earth, as if to remind the couple, still clinging together, there can be no parting that does not leave a hole behind.
“I know.”
The irresistible power of the Sun, when it reigns over the daylight world, lies in banishing darkness which can only survive into the following night if there is someone who is willing to hold it within, succoring it until the Sun retreats.
* sorry, any Doctrine TToT Readers, can’t say why I enjoy that weak pun as much as I do, but I be careful not to totally wear it out.
About clarkscottroger
Feel free to wear it out because any pun is a good pun!
I liked how you began and ended the story with the quoted narrations and how they balanced each other. I also liked the exposition a lot because it was so vivid that dialogue really wasn’t necessary. We knew there was unhappiness and we knew lives would change and we might have guessed based on our own experiences at what would be left so we didn’t need them to tell us. We just needed to hear them say those few words. And then this: “their reflections were anchored to the earth, as if to remind the couple, still clinging together, there can be no parting that does not leave a hole behind.”
thank you, Michael
that bracketing was one of those necessities apparent only when I reached a certain point in the primary narrative
and I don’t mind saying, it was with a sense of relief when I got to that point in the drafts (in no small measure due to my realizing that I could have a beginning-middle-end) which, needless to say decreased the pressure to imitate, if not learn from a certain writer* who has a certain gift for no-holds-barred story-telling.
it was fun
*not telling other than the name rhymes with Sere.
Stunning piece, perhaps even your best ever in this forum, in my less than humble. Particular kudos for ‘it’s engine quietly ticking, the automotive equivalent of constrained groans of an octogenarian returning from the garden on an intoxicatingly mild day’. And ‘The once carnal heat that flooded the space between us was now dark energy, forcing our worlds apart.’
thank you, Doug
All I can say, Clark, is that your writing is improving, I think, quite significantly.
This is superb, full of phrases, clauses and sentences that resonate.
This week’s chapeau, mon brave.
back at’cha, yo
Wow. It’s profound and sad.
Thank you, M.
A beautiful, deep and sore story, Clark.
The descriptions are sharp and clear, and, because long, emphasise the weight and the sadness of the two people facing the inevitable with heavy hearts.
And the whole framed within the two reflections.
Most touching line for me: ‘…lies in banishing darkness which can only survive into the following night if there is someone who is willing to hold it within, succoring it until the Sun retreats.’
ty j9
this was an interesting one (to write)… as often I started with the ‘automatic writing’ approach, first line. (liked it, the old ‘as the say’ thing)… then the second line which was one of those where I have to ‘hold my breath’* not only to write but to hear the next line. then the fun of metaphors (for a little breather) and complete the breakup scenario
… then! your little buddy ceayr returns (in my mind) and the sense of ‘make this a story with a beginning-middle-end coherency’
got lucky one more time**
* not literally, of course, but sorta…’cept in relation to emotion rather than respiration
** better lucky than good lol
Really well done – and sad.
thank you, Chris
A heady read, Clark. I found myself totally absorbed in this story. Later in the day I was unconsciously humming the melody to an old standard which I’ve sung many times. It’s no coincidence. https://youtu.be/gCeAQjAddHc?si=DwQVQJ_MmLB5SGqL
‘cellent musical accompaniment
Exquisite piece, Clark. For both your adroit expression of emotion implicit in the scene and your use of the italicized lines as bookends (perfect).
ty
Yes, beautiful prose poem! The phrase that hit me hard: “sipped at by secret inhalations”
Wow!
Thank you, Liz
Just lovely. The terse emotionless of their dialogue carries huge weight as it lands in the midst of so much feeling, conveyed by your allusions to light and dark, sound and soundlessness, heaven and earth and the intermingling of the two in the reflections of the lights, childhood and old age. All of life is here in this story. Masterful.
I meant to write ’emotionlessness’. Sorry.