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. in our tale…

Prompt word:

CHARGE

“For Barrie’s sake, not another Creature from god’s nose where?”

The tall, thin man turned from the dumbwaiter, drawn by the sight of a diminutive female figure kaleidoscoping shards of light off a shelf holding a collection of steampunk clockworks, two cellphone chargers and, for some reason, a time-worn Bible even as la Raconteuse glowed with delight; a smile lead the charge on the Manager’s frown but was interrupted by the small automaton holding a card:

[But the Door…someone is still knocking! ]

The dumbwaiter, with what could only be described as child-like impatience, raised one foot, put it down abruptly then the other; the tall, thin man turned to la Raconteuse, his words inoculated by a smile, “I take from your expression I don’t have to go looking for a can of RAID?”

Somehow conveying aggravated impatience with a sound of mechanical rustling, the card was replaced with:

[Fine, be rude, I’ll get it]

“I must say, Miz R, you have a gift for discovering the curious among the mundane,” even as the Proprietor stepped towards his companion, the small automaton reached the door. It’s right hand briefly disappeared into it’s waistcoat now held up a new intertitle card, opened the door; the man standing in the doorway stared then smiled as he read:

[Thank you, but while I cannot be Saved, the two people behind me, well good luck!]

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