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

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

Hosted by Denise, constrained by a sentence limit (high and low) of six, there are worse ways to spend the remaining time you have on earth.

Previously…

Prompt word:

ECHO

The car crossed the Brooklyn Bridge and was absorbed into the Manhattan transportation infrastructure like a rogue white cell; the system and the cell, bound by mortal purpose such that even the survivor would never be the same. Were this a melodrama, one might consider extending the metaphor to the two passengers, their relationship threatening to overcome the natural momentum of the plot.

“So, what, might I ask is your plan,” the Sophomore held his Zippo until the end of the driver’s cigarette glowed, he then lit his own before flicking the shiny-metal lighter shut; if floating labels did not run the risk of excess frivolity, his would be ‘Drama’ or for the more classically-inclined, ‘dharma’.

“Whaddya mean?” Rosetta Storme’s ‘floating designator’ would surely be ‘Melodrama’; that the risk of emotional echos between the two creating a deafening feedback loop, mores the narrative inertia, as we’re drawn along with the two young people.

The Sophomore looked over to Rosetta, a smile shouldering whatever lingering doubts he may have about the girl driving, “Did I ever tell you about how, in the early seventies there were demonstrations, for, just about everything and… and this is the part that should be of interest to both of us, the second wave of the feminist movement started, like, in the late sixties, early 70s.”

The young woman turned and, putting her right hand to the back of the essentially-younger man’s neck drew him into a kiss that not only lasted long enough to get through the last toll booth, but through the magic of Melodrama, convinced the automated machine to raise it’s pole and flash an unabashed green light, “Well, as far as my role in this adventure, I plan to find this nun, make her tell me where the time machine thingie is and keep it out of the hands of that woman my uncle hates….capische?”