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

This is the Doctrine’s contribution to the Unicorn Challenge bloghop.

A word-count constrained imagination contest* hosted by jenne and ceayr, the prompt is an image and the only limit is ‘tell your story in under 250 words’

“Honey? The police are at the door. They have a warrant… wait, they have a Cease and Desist order. They just want to talk.”

The knocking on the door had a bit more urgency than usual. Being an old house, my study was perfectly suited to my mission. Solid-core door and, most-importantly a patio.

We’d been having a bit of a rough patch, since, well, since He Spoke. Once I understood what was expected of me, the Mission I’d be given, my wife and I remained cordial. She even continued to fix my lunch every morning. That said, I didn’t tell her a couple of things: I’d been laid off and I ate lunch at two in the morning.

Getting the lumber was no problem, hell, the safety barricades, the city did at no cost. Just a matter of understanding the bureaucratic mind, who’d of thought my plans would get exposed by the damn animal control officer.

He said that He’d cover for me, build it and He’d take care of the rest.

And now the cops, never known for their appreciation for irony, were banging on my door. I’ll bet half of them had ‘Stop Global Warming’ bumper stickers on their private vehicles.

I just wish she hadn’t’ turned me. She was right there on the manifest He gave me. I was really looking forward to being fruitful with her again.

The knocking stopped.

The gentle summer rain grew into a downpour.