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:

HOLLOW

“You tricked me!”

The young boy’s words were that of an explorer pushing away branches and vines as he ran to escape a pursuing threat, their stings still less than his fear.

“Tick, Tock, Seth…” his best-backrow-friend stopped laughing long enough to be noticed by the rest of class who, like lesser predators at the roar of a far-deadlier beast, sought to become invisible.

Caught between the childhood Scylla and Charybdis of his best friend and ‘everyone else’, Ethan swore allegiance by laughing, albeit with decidedly hollow mirth.

Sister Cletus sighed in acceptance of the gap between generations, retaining a battered hope that could be earned only by paying the tuition of a life time of teaching children,

“You’re both right.”

The old nun looked out over the class with a sharpness that instilled sufficient uncertainty to restore order, all the while smiling a nearly-invisible smile, (in the secret dialect of ‘smirk’) that took both boys hostage,

“Time is both Master and Slave and we all give it control while dreaming of escape,” the class became as silent as the first seconds at the end of a blaring fire alarm, it’s ‘all clear’ a relief to a surprisingly small percentage of people.

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