Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

This is the Wakefield Doctrine’s contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop.

Denise is the host. There is only one rule: a story must have six (no more, no less) sentae.

Prompt Word:

RELIC

The hallway that ran from the end of the bar to the Manager’s Office was a rainbow of darkness; striated shades of black suited to hiding, obscuring and, by measure known to a very few, backlighting.

If the Six Sentence Café & Bistro were to be found in ancient Greece, (and more than one academic has thus proposed), the name Eleusis would have coaxed the most productive response from a local.

Unfortunately, (or not), in order to conduct that little thought experiment requires access to a time machine, and not even the tall, thin man had, as yet, succeeded in coaxing the Sophomore into explaining the manner of his travel from fifty years in the past. All of which was probably for the best, given the seven Proprietor’s weakness for viewing the world as a dream and their personal nightmares as prophecy.  All, that is, with the exception of two: Tom, the only person known to become an integral personality in the ubiquitous, if not exclusive club, while lacking full ‘Proprietor’ status and one other;

the woman, most often found in the furthest seat; this location, in virtually all bars, nightclubs, discos and, the aforementioned Panhellenic Sanctuaries, would be the service station where the waitrae and waitri picked up their drink orders.

Mimi sat by choice, virtue and spiritual predilection; a voluntary relic of the time before Man was sent Eastward, without a genuine helpmeet; she acted as guard, guardian, emissary and guide for those with business along the length of the darkened hallway.