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:

WORD

“Wait here…” the tall, thin man turned from the four-foot automaton as the spotlight, in a vain attempt to pin-mount the Proprietor, swept the stage even as the overhead lighting dimmed, revived and faded with a sighed, ‘Our-show-now-begins‘.

With the departure of the emcee, the view for most guests consisted of the top-half of the microphone stand and a perfect circle of light cast on the brick wall behind the stage; from below their line-of-sight, a misshapen moon rose in partial eclipse, a rectangular card on which words frilled in the font of a 1920’s silent movie.

{THERE ONCE WAS A ‘DROID FROM NANTUCKET}

The spotlight’s smoke-dusted beam shuddered and blinked once.

{ALONE SINCE HIS GOD KICKED THE BUCKET}

From a far corner or, perhaps, one of the privacy-veiled alcoves, “Word!” Laughter simmered until muted by a flare of shssshh’s’ even as the linen moon rose anew:

{HIS NEW FRIENDS QUITE NICE,}

{SAVE ONE HEART OF ICE!}

In silence, the SRO crowd in the Six Sentence Café & Bistro leaned forward as one; their only tell, a wood-on-wood creak as the final intertitle card, rose into the spotlight:

{THIS TIN-MAN’D DUMBWAITER, REFUSES TO QUIT.}