Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Doctrine’s contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop.
Hosted by Denise, there is but one rule. It relates to the number of sentences in a story. Can you guess the rule?
Prompt word:
DREAM
“Sure, but it was just such a vivid dream that I nagged my therapist, that surely there was something I could take to keep me, I don’t know, un-inclined to dream of her?”
Mid-day at the Six Sentence Café & Bistro can present a level of quiet that encourages the most untrusting to confide the deepest of secrets as the young woman in the ageless fashion continued, “Well, no, not all dreams; any freshman psych major knows that sleep deprivation will fuck you all up and, not dreaming at all is a close second.”
The ice-maker made a sound like an apologetic cough, as if to assure all that it had no intention to eavesdrop, but, for the record, approved of the young woman’s rationale.
“I know that it sounds, well, either immature or crazy, not that I cared, but I didn’t want to lose her and if I didn’t have the dream then I’ve truly lost her;” Rosetta Storme reached for the Hermes handbag she’d put on the bar, unconscious ransom for the audience she’d been granted, “Clearly I’m willing to live as an emotional cripple so I guess this disqualifies me for whatever job Lou thought you might have for me?”
The woman seated at the end of the long bar nearest a hallway that seemed to grow darker when one focused on it, smiled; less a ‘Mona Lisa smile’ and more, (though not as celebrated by the Renaissance masters), one would imagine forming on Mary Magdalene’s face, the better to make the silent wisdom in her eyes more accessible; “Cher, you’re the only kind of person we want.”
Like a giant clam conducting a symphony orchestra, Tom stood between the swinging doors of the Café’s kitchen and announced in a voice one-third laughter and one-half celebration, “Did I hear someone say BLTs!!?”
*
About clarkscottroger
What the heck is Lou up to now, lol.
If they pass muster with Mimi, they’re a shoe-in.
Fun Café Six!
P.S. Bet Tom’s BLT’s are the best on the planet.
white toast (of course)
I love the way my autonomic nervous system forgets about breathing when I read your Sixes. It’s like making scrambled eggs the French way; stirring all the time without stopping. Mmmmmm BLT, yes please.
thank you, Misky
I like how an “emotional cripple” is “the only kind of person we want”. Also, nice name for the new character: Rosetta Storme.
thx… there is a certain affinity for them what find the SSC&B a comfortable place to hang out at
And cher, I dine bet we be needin’ her ’bout de same as she be needin’ us
We had a member of the church who, for reasons no doctor could figure out medically, quit dreaming and started having seizures. For two years, they couldn’t control them with any meds and when he started dreaming again suddenly, they stopped.
funny thing, ’bout dat. The business of ‘identifying with (how another person) feels’ makes all the psych schedules and grids and such of only a secondary need and but a convenient shorthand
Great food as always in the SSC&B, especially from Tom!
tru dat
An eavesdropping ice-maker and a baton-waving clam! Bring on the BLTs I say!
lol
ain’t no sayin’ we don’t live the high life down at the Six Sentence Café & Bistro
There’s lots of good stuff to digest here; dream talk, cool imagery, cool setting, cool (growing) cast of characters, and fresh BLT’s.
Thank you, D
Who doesn’t like a BLT (Sunday Night special while watching Disney (the show not the network) followed by Ed Sullivan
Very nice imagery – thank you.
“The ice-maker made a sound like an apologetic cough, as if to assure all that it had no intention to eavesdrop, but, for the record, approved of the young woman’s rationale.” – great sentence! (And for the record, I never say no to BLTs)
thanks, Nicole (like I have yet to see a discouraging word about the perfect (non-room temperature) sandwich