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.
Hosted by Denise, it relies on a single, qualifying characteristic: stories are precisely six sentences in length.
Prompt word:
BOND
“Walk with me.”
The surprising thing was not that the tall, thin man managed to stand in the doorway to the kitchen without being noticed approaching, nor was it the obvious fact that he was already walking away, out into the main public area of the Café, before uttering the concluding pronoun of his ‘request’. To the unsurprised Proprietors, (and Tom), gathered in the sterile light of the kitchen, that he had singled out Rosetta Storme was.
As the Bartender and Tom and Mimi watched, the manager walked out among the tables that spread in no easily discernible pattern or order throughout the open rectangular space; the long side of this part of the Bistro was centered by the small stage backing up against an interior wall that showed it’s structural DNA in the off-white outlines of mortar forming the traditional running bond design.
To a casual observer, the man’s path was as circuitous as a chatbot’s interpretation of Wyeth’s ‘Christina’s World’.
The silence, both bond and distinction, among the two Proprietors (and Tom) was accented by one, un-inflected comment, “Well, mes amis, this will be interesting.”
About clarkscottroger
Nice description of the man’s path “as circuitous as a chatbot’s interpretation”. It sounds like Rosetta is going to get a lecture of sorts unless she doesn’t deliver one herself first.
she could… in fact that might be more interesting the outcome? therein hangs a tale
“the off-white outlines of mortar forming the traditional running bond design” … what a fabulous additional detail of the aesthetics of the room.
thankee
Nothing like sitting at my Gatekeeper’s usual in-visible seat, drinking my in-visible coffee, watching a “Walk with me” play out.
( PS: Earlier Lou recieved a photo from the Gatekeeper… of a pair of golden stilettos, casually dropped next to a black lion-head cane… in case he wonders where Rosetta was the previous night)
lol
(…you on your own with that narrative arc, yo)
No walkie on?
Pity…
I think you both have plenty to say, and I wonder how much listening she would really do.
agreed
More than interesting, I would say…
thanks, Chris!
An example of “ignorance is bliss”, lol. Rosetta, clueless, regardless of what she’s heard, being led by the tall, thin man away from the other proprietors and Tom for a private conversation, qualifies as a first.
hey, this is fiction, am I right?