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, governed by a sole rule: exactly six sentences in length must stories be.
Prompt word:
IMPRESSION
“Gimme a light, will ya?”
There are many forms of intimacy, some so common as to become cliché, predominantely manifesting in forms emotional and/or physical; however, like great music these intimacies can be surprisingly resistant to the degradation of repetition, the favorite line of a song or a chorus sung, retains the magic.
While it is said that nature abhors a vacuum, more instructive in the context of our story, is that nature also loathes predictability as is demonstrated in a nighttime encounter between the Sophomore and Rosetta Storme; their moment of shared intimacy began with the illumination of the young woman’s face by the flame of a zippo lighter: hair held back casually with one hand, she offered the end of her cigarette to the flame; her head was tilted down, he remained more erect (in stance) and the steadiness of his hand, a timeless emblem of confidence and strength nevertheless serving to accentuate her strategy of using one hand for her hair leaving the other free to lightly touch his hand holding the lighter.
There was a giving and receiving, offering and acceptance inherent in the rhythm of this midnight minuet; the shadows of her face, darkly alive impressions and depressions, a landscape anchored by the essential features, her eyes and her lips, their lack of words speaking volumes.
The flame of the lighter danced about in the dark, once a certain proximity is attained fire it leaps towards the end of the cigarette; for her the moment of ignition is accompanied by an intake of breath as he watches and waits for her to look up, a signal of both satisfaction and approval. He closes his light with a firm snap, the flame extinguished for the moment but at the ready.
“Hey, thanks,” Rosetta tosses her head back and to the side, her hair a tsunami of intent and a wave of soundless celebration,
*
About clarkscottroger
Yay, a zippo! I can almost smell it from here… that great lighter fluid (mmm), and pretty, pretty ones as well.
excellent (the reference to the scent of lighter fluid)
Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme (from the Disney Beauty and the Beast movie).
lol
thank you
excellent comment (including the compliment suggesting Mr.Roger’s music being recognized by the Disney people) lol
Very nicely written. Strong undercurrent of sensuality in the dance between Rosetta and the Sophomore, palpable in a small, yet personal gesture.
“…the illumination of the young woman’s face by the flame of a zippo lighter: hair held back casually with one hand, she offered the end of her cigarette to the flame; her head was tilted down,…” or
“…for her the moment of ignition is accompanied by an intake of breath as he watches and waits for her to look up,…”
Oh, yeah, trouble’s ‘abrewing. Or not. Except with Rosetta, nothing’s off the table, lol.
I used a Bic lighter but always appreciated the sophistication of the Zippo and the intimacy of being given a light, Thank you.
Now, that’s what I call magic. One of your best, that I’ve read.
thank you, that means a great deal to me
Such moments of intuitive awakening are golden. Isn’t it funny how age allows me these moments in full technicolor- but will erase a memory I might actually benefit from retaining. So discriptively on point.
ikr?
(hold on, where are my car keys?)
Hey! here’s an odd question*: drawing on the most dynamic periods of your early life, do you find, sometimes having more (and in greater detail) about those close to you at the time compared to your own personal history?
* yeah, knock a Reader over with a feather
mmmm, loved this (i, of big, boundless hair)– “her hair a tsunami of intent and a wave of soundless celebration”
TY R
Why is it I suddenly want a cigarette even though I don’t even smoke? I guess it’s down to the power of your pen.
thanks, Keith