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

This is the Doctrine’s contribution to jenne and ceayr‘s bloghop, ‘the Unicorn Challenge‘

Only rule (yeah, bet they sometimes regret that elegant approach to conformity): top word limit of 250.

“I’ve got this.”

The man remembered to add a smile to his voice as the young woman reached out. To his credit, the smile was dosed with a genuine sense of pride, tinged slightly with resentment.

“I know you do.”

The woman deployed a cascade of non-verbal signals and decoys. Her reciprocating smile every bit the chocolate chip cookie shared between young friends, the crumbs from the breaking of no concern to the one making the offer, the size of the proffered half, everything to the other.

Without looking, the old man stepped down the first step, his right wrist brushing slightly on the wrought iron rail.

‘I’ll be careful.”

As ostentatious and obvious as the subsidy from Elizabeth I to James VI, truly deserving a place in the Hall of Gifted Horses, the man allowed his cleverness to erode his caution. His left foot lagged behind. The casual trajectory ruined, he stubbled.

That the  grasp on his upper left arm was strong was not the most offensive consequence of his unconscious miscalculation. The barely discernible time between action and reaction was.

The man felt a frown grow, increasingly fecund lichens hiding in the cracks of a fieldstone wall, but remembered that emotional demeanor was as critical as kinesthetic soundness.

“Caught you napping, did I?”

The old man and the young woman laughed. Her’s was a professional skill, his a desperate marshaling of unreliable resources; the defiance in his voice a guttering torch held against the gathering darkness,