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.
Prompt word:
FIRE
“Frank, will you be staying?”
The tall, thin man stood in the middle of the Bistro amid numerous empty tables, a derelict ship caught in the embrace of exceptionally powerful doldrums somewhere in a low-number latitude.
la Raconteuse was in conversation with Mimi and the Bartender and the new poetess, Aurelia, had been seated at the bar looking, for reasons beyond the Proprietor’s imagination, uncomfortable.
Taking out his phone, the Manager’s thumb became as frenetic as a teenager in a 11:30 pm car backseat doing his best to start a fire limited to materials and body-parts available; smiling at this confabulation, paused and then triggered the jukebox.
The Proprietor, even as the neurons connecting his brain to his hand, (all nearly as poorly moderated as the aforementioned late-night teenager), closed his eyes, laughed to himself and waited for the music.
The sympathetic response of muscles to the rhythm section, while not winning a Dancing With the Stars contest, did open a door, (or a window or maybe, simply lettres de transit to a far earlier/younger iteration); and, as with most gifts acquired in life’s trials, the tall, thin man accepted the restrictions inherent in the space in which he might visit his past-self, as being well worth the enjoyment of the music.
About clarkscottroger
I’ll probably be going, but I will be back.
(as I mentioned to Chris in a Reply) the cool thing about the SSC&B is that it provides a consistency (in a fictional setting) and constancy in a ‘place’ for ‘fictional’ characters to do their thing. To an increasingly large audience all we have to do (in an opening of a story or a change in location in a story) is write, “Stepping down the three granite steps and opening the red oak door, I was greeted by friends and scrutinized by strangers, eschewing the bar I picked my favorite table…”
I trust this offsetts the sometimes repetitive descriptions I include in Comments… ideally one knows that between the outer door (oak with wrought iron hardware) and the inner one (ss and glass) that provides access to the interior from the small vestibule with it’s cigarette machine piled high with the local free newspapers and a stack of The WatchTower opposite which is a small bench.)
I’ll stop now…lol
I can see there are many opportunities with the tall, thin man. I shall have a word with him… and soon!
cool
I resonate with the last line. There are places we visit to find our past self (and never find it :) )
nothin less than a fricken time machine… ok, to qualify that assertion an emotional slingshot of varying predictability but unimpeachable effectiveness
Uhh. Ain’t nothing better than travelling by listening to music… I was imagining the scene and I know that feeling…
ain’t it the best thing?
Nice.
May I mentioned that something similar happened to me the other day, when I came across “Summer in the City”. I still remembered every single word, proving that long-term memory doesn’t care where I put the car keys.
it (the full scale flashbacks) are incredible and, of course, it is not merely the detailed recollection, it (imo) is the emotional component… something that most of us don’t bother with excessively when recalling memories… at least not to the depth of a music flashback
There are so many memories in a song or a scent.
this is very true
Ah, music, the gift that keeps giving.
(those emotion-fueled memory field trips into the past!! ayyiee)
“Exceptionally powerful doldrums” must be related to “the dog days of summer”.
funny that choice of words… got the word doldrums in my head this week and so, naturally spent an inordinate amount of time reading up on them… which, in turn, provided my visuals to the wording with, unfortunately, more depth than the Reader might enjoy… though dog days with it’s implied lassitude does resonate
Second line. Set a scene much? Excellent.
Not sure we’ve seen this side of the tall, thin man. Love it.
ikr?