Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and roger)
This is the Wakefield Doctrine’s contribution to ‘the Unicorn Challenge‘
Hosted each week by jenne and ceayr, we who are about to write are tasked with creating a story, (a world, a glimpse off the continuum or, perhaps merely a daydream), inspired by the week’s photo image. The limit to this construction is that it require no more than two hundred and fifty words to convey.
“But, gran’pa, you said you’d show me a castle, the place where you used to work.”
The boy, secured by the momentary tether of his five-year-old hand to an arthritic, age-mottled pier, looked up. In his innocent eyes, a power that shamans, priests and cult-leaders through the ages have vainly sought, proof of status and favor with both gods and demons.
“It is,” the tug on his hand reminded the old man that his practiced-slow gait was more than the earned leisure of a retired locksmith/shop-owner; it was a silent strategy to avoid shuffling off Hamlet’s coil unintentionally. His secret smile pressed an emphasis on the last word, one from which his children would recoil and his grandson lacked the lexicon.
Only his dog, leaning against the leg opposite the boy, could intuit the ever-present siren song that sound-tracked his days. Despite her own gait, a four-legged mirror of the man, the peace in her eyes offered more strength than Science and god combined.
“This is,” even as the grey became confident blue and the bricks of the sidewalk shouldered themselves into a carpet of secure predictability and, not without causing distant-lightning flash of fear, the hint of shadows knitting in customers, shop-owners and loved ones.
“This was.”
“Slow down, you two,” the voice of the boy’s mother, a tide far stronger than the momentary dock line pulled the boy into the future.
The dog never moved, The old man felt the world recede, the ultimate tide.
About clarkscottroger
I always look for the great line and you rarely disappoint, clark. ‘The old man felt the world recede, the ultimate tide.’
thanks, Doug
Clark. This is an exquisite piece. Thank you.
It appears Denise and I are in agreement. An exquisite write, Clark.
ty, SS
Oh, it was, because it was his. Wonderful.
Favourite sentence in this beautiful, meditative, ‘beginning and ending’ tale, where the dog alone is able to intuit the reality: ‘… the peace in her eyes offered more strength than Science and god combined.’
(I also like ‘Science’ and ‘god’.)
Actulallly, I need to have 2 favourite sentences: ‘“This is,” even as the grey became confident blue and the bricks of the sidewalk shouldered themselves into a carpet of secure predictability and, not without causing distant-lightning flash of fear, the hint of shadows knitting in customers, shop-owners and loved ones.’
You’ll gather I liked the story.
thankee, Miz jenne
(you are, of course, invited to stop in the Six Sentence Café & Bistro this week, Tom and I are concluding our Serial Six (‘Of Heroes and the MisUnderstood’) by having the ‘cast’ show up there (anymore than that, I totally don’t have a clue) and, of course bring along any/all Unicornians (Have done a description of the Bistro in a number of Comments will no doubt do it again this week as, imo, walk-ons into another’s fictional world is always more fun when the layout is pre-established)
Thanks for the invitation, Clark. I shall look out a suitable outfit and creep in to stand at the back and enjoy the show. I’ve started reading…
yw (its been fun)
A great tale, certainly one of your finest, Clark.
You keep getting betterer and bettererer, à mon avis, as I think the earlier comments confirm.
Tight, but with your trademark imagery.
Superb.
(Hey, don’t tell anyone but you get a part of the credit*. Every week I see your contribution. Simple as a nail. Sitting there and whispering err sorry, (for me, Shouting) ‘Tell us a story!’)
* percentage and measures can’t apply when talking ’bout writers practicing the craft in the company others of good intent. ya know?