Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Doctrine’s contribution to ‘the Unicorn Challenge‘.
Hosted by jenne and ceayr, the only strict rule is: a story may not exceed 250 words. How much time, intellectual resources or psycho-emotional careening around in one’s mind after seeing the prompt photo but before hitting ‘Publish’? Unlimited.
“Kiss me.”
“Sure. Wait, what?” The girl looked up at her date, startled by his words, yet reassured by the obligatory travel-frayed backpack hanging off his left shoulder. He smiled with an elemental charm found in a vanishingly-small number of chromosomal wellsprings available to those who lugged a Y Chromosome cudgel through life.
“No, I’m serious. Wasn’t it my idea to come here instead of the Casino?”
The young, (going-on-younger), woman nodded acquiescence; yet a single pair of muscles in her face, deciding to go all Conscientious Objector on the moment, deprived her upturned face of that one physical inflection that differentiated between love and lust.
“Well, it was an effective come-on line.” She smiled to smooth her words, lest, in his haste to accept them as a compliment, he snag something critical to his mission.
Shifting his backpack, the almost-older man missed a frightening percentage of cues fanned-out by his newest travel companion. Like an out-of-towner in front of a sidewalk three-card monte game, his desire to win was his undoing as he decided he was keeping track of everything that was important.
The girl complied. The boy smiled.
Their bodies met, her heart did not. He didn’t notice. She never forgot.
Both turned, an inward ratcheting of bodies, as a limo stopped at Pl. du Casino, 98000 Monaco. The only man wearing dark glasses stepped forward to open the vehicle’s door. The ghost of Princess Grace stepped out and entered the building, entourage trailing like a funeral shroud.
About clarkscottroger
Well, Clark, I am laughing.
You have surpassed yourself, mon vieux, with this gem-sprinkled anecdote.
I have thought deeply about my favourite, and I’m going for ‘He didn’t notice. She never forgot.’
As we say in France, this is ‘terrible’, which loosely translates into y’all-speak as ‘awesome’.
Funny, the last part, with Princess Grace was prompted by your voice in my head about, ‘ok, if this is a little story, be sure there is a beginning, middle and end’
thx
To quote an august writing colleague, ‘damn! ceayr stepped on my Comment(to be)!’ He has a habit of doing that!
‘Their bodies met, her heart did not. He didn’t notice. She never forgot.’ – killer line, Clark, one of your best.
And the story is full of them, your signature descriptions, and the ‘ghost of Princess Grace’ a most fitting finale.
lol ikr?
very steamy
Thank you
Well, it really is a great line. One of many. Count me in.
that (line) didn’t ‘show up’ ’til, like the last draft… funny, this writing thing
Always such nicely turned and polished phrases makes it a joy to read here.
:)
Top shelf, clark, with this a your best zinger. ‘.Like an out-of-towner in front of a sidewalk three-card monte game, his desire to win was his undoing’
like, with a cardboard box set up as the playing surface…
Great little story, Clark.
thank you, Chris
A most enjoyable tale.