Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Wakefield Doctrine’s bi-weekly/semi-monthly/every fourteenth day contribution to ‘the Unicorn Challenge‘.
Hosted by jenne and ceayr, the challenge is the most simplest of all: see that pitcha down there? Write a story that involves it and do not, at hazard of Heimdall (his friends call ‘im Doug) calling you out for exceeding the limit of two hundred and fity (250) words.
(Apologies to Shirley Jackson fans. Not my fault. The line showed up on my doorstep as soon as I saw the photo)
“…and Dust to Dust.”
I couldn’t resist the pulling towards the house. If the experience of witnessing a sunrise includes feeling the pressure of light, heat and the day’s possibility, this moment, invisible to all others, could be nothing other than sunset.
“The path he took was lined with books, the mark he left: secret bent-page corners, insight into humanity serving only to drive his further search. An insatiable curiosity, for our brother, was both journey and destination, albatross and crucifix.”
The house, the one in which I was raised didn’t merely grow in size as I approached, (or was being transported to), it became an increasing certainty. Certainty in the way birthdays and holidays are, so inevitable that most people felt no need to remember them, they happened when they happened. Reassuring for no other reason than everyone had them.
“He was a quiet man, but kind, even if tending to be distant in social settings.”
The rooms were exactly as they always were, filled with family. All the time. Always helping and teaching, correcting and reminding me to come out of my shell. To learn to live.
“We close this memorial service with John 14:1-3 ‘…Father’s house many mansion…'”
My God! The voices, the whispers, the memories growing in the air… Rather than Dante and his guide to damnation, I should have paid Shirley Jackson heed…
Whatever walked there will never be alone…