Fashion Center | the Wakefield Doctrine

Six Sentence Story -the Wakefield Doctrine- [an Ian Devereaux Six]

April 9, 2025 By clarkscottroger 19 Comments

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

This is the Wakefield Doctrine’s contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop.

Hosted by Denise, there is one rule: Six (no more, no less) Sentenceses to the story.

Prompt word:

HAUNT

Through my re-closed eyes, I felt the car slow to a stop; smooth hum of rubber-on-asphalt modulated to a tenor-crunch of gravel as Diane parked in front of the Administration building; for some obvious reason, I had a flashback of Zelazny’s novel, ‘Roadmarks”

“Last Stop for the Recollection-Regrets-Reconciliation Express, please have your ticket punched, baggage weighed and Multiple Personality Identity Badge, sorry, bad-ges, conspicuously displayed,” Diane Tierney managed to look older, wiser and mischievously-sexy holding the passenger-side front door open. I stepped out with the desperate enthusiasm of a family dog, resigned to an annual vet visit, pulling on the leash towards the door.

“Only if you come with me…”

“Only if we go sit under the bleachers and smoke some dope, I can see you now, a young Private Investigator to be, all non-descript, clumsy arms and legs watching the cheerleaders …cheering.”

The flashes of memories I had as I lead Diane towards the athletic field were not what I would have predicted had someone said, “Hey Ian, meet’cha at the old high school, we’ll hangout and recall the good times;” the thing about memories, and/or the haunts they frequent, they end up being half-clever memes on facebook, accurate enough to get the Reader’s attention but not powerful enough to hold it.

Friday -the Wakefield Doctrine-

April 6, 2025 By clarkscottroger 8 Comments

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers

This is the Doctrine’s contribution to the Unicorn Challenge bloghop.

A word-count constrained imagination contest* hosted by jenne and ceayr, the prompt is an image and the only limit is ‘tell your story in under 250 words’

“Honey? The police are at the door. They have a warrant… wait, they have a Cease and Desist order. They just want to talk.”

The knocking on the door had a bit more urgency than usual. Being an old house, my study was perfectly suited to my mission. Solid-core door and, most-importantly a patio.

We’d been having a bit of a rough patch, since, well, since He Spoke. Once I understood what was expected of me, the Mission I’d be given, my wife and I remained cordial. She even continued to fix my lunch every morning. That said, I didn’t tell her a couple of things: I’d been laid off and I ate lunch at two in the morning.

Getting the lumber was no problem, hell, the safety barricades, the city did at no cost. Just a matter of understanding the bureaucratic mind, who’d of thought my plans would get exposed by the damn animal control officer.

He said that He’d cover for me, build it and He’d take care of the rest.

And now the cops, never known for their appreciation for irony, were banging on my door. I’ll bet half of them had ‘Stop Global Warming’ bumper stickers on their private vehicles.

I just wish she hadn’t’ turned me. She was right there on the manifest He gave me. I was really looking forward to being fruitful with her again.

The knocking stopped.

The gentle summer rain grew into a downpour.

Filed Under: Fashion Center

Six Sentence Story -the Wakefield Doctrine [a Café Six] …

April 4, 2025 By clarkscottroger 8 Comments

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

This is the Wakefield Doctrine’s contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop.

Hosted by Denise, there is one rule: Six (no more, no less) Sentenceses to the story.

Previously, in our serial story…

Prompt word:

FLAKE

“Hello….?”

The interior of the Six Sentence Cafe & Bistro is of a design quite simple, a decor elegantly plain and possessed of a functionality that has been studied and debated, argued and analyzed by sociologists and event planners across the globe since the Proprietors opened its door.

At the present moment, the semi-dark Café manifested the eternal bartender’s admonition that “… but you can’t stay here.”

“Oh jeez louise, the party is over and you’re closed,” the voice, issuing from a point between the ruby-neon shore of light on the end of the bar nearest the door, was a rich blend of wistful sorrow, habitual calm and yet, beneath it lurked a contralto suited to threats and promises without restraint.

Like the flakiest of croissants or some other pastry that makes one ignore a contrived simile, the voices in the near-dawn dark offered a cocktail of counsel and consolation, “Sorry ma cheri, but hold you on that invitation, we always looking for an excuse to have interesting guest”; “Word,” this last from the Bartender leaning against the shelves of liquor, sparks of light bouncing among the colored bottles, “You got a name?”

“Violet. Simply, Violet…”

To the surprise of no one, Mimi smiled and Chris laughed and Nick blew a cloud of smoke at the ceiling and Denise leaned on the long, polished bar.

Filed Under: Fashion Center, Uncategorized Tagged With: Six Sentence Story, the Wakefield Doctrine

Six Sentence Story -the Wakefield Doctrine [a Café Six] …all’s well that ends well.

April 4, 2025 By clarkscottroger 9 Comments

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

This is the Wakefield Doctrine’s contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop.

Hosted by Denise, there is one rule: Six (no more, no less) Sentenceses to the story.

Previously, in our serial story…

Prompt word:

FLAKE

The tall, thin man tipped the wine bottle over the proffered glass until the briefest of up-pressure indicated sufficiency. He sat back in his wingback chair, the third side of a seating arrangement that was: leather in furniture fabric, dark-marble fireplace mantle and a day-at-the-beach in terms of ‘kick-back-and-relax’ vibe.

“Tom is still on sabbatical, but if you’d like we can order out,” Brushing at a suspiciously contrived flake of dandruff on the sleeve of, given he’d abandoned all hope of narrative credibility, his velvet smoking jacket, the Proprietor sipped his coffee.

“I have a confession to make,” the tall, thin man pressed his lips tightly together, as much a non-verbal mea culpa as he was capable, “I don’t remember, precisely,” a corner of his mouth twitched, “the painting you so enjoyed,” getting a bit rowdy, his head nodded upwards towards the wall above the fireplace.

“But, since the Six Sentence Café & Bistro is nothing if it is not the essence of virtual reality and creativity, say the word and I’ll conclude my dialogue with such a catalogue raisonné that your head’ll spin.”

The Author-Proprietor-otherwise-known-as-the Raconteuse, let her smile spark laughter and the two nearly-fictional characters enjoyed the quiet of the evening, as the April Fools Day³ celebration continued far into the night.

Filed Under: Fashion Center Tagged With: clarkscottroger, Six Sentence Story, the Wakefield Doctrine

Six Sentence Story -the Wakefield Doctrine- [a Café Six] cont’d

April 3, 2025 By clarkscottroger 11 Comments

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

This is the Wakefield Doctrine’s contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop.

Hosted by Denise, there is one rule: Six (no more, no less) Sentenceses to the story.

Previously, in our serial story…

Prompt word:

FLAKE

“There’s an old saying…”

The tall, thin man watched as Mimi‘s right eyebrow teased her lips only to have a frown try to head-off the laughter; it was no contest.

A good-natured, if not charitable, concession to anyone nearby who, upon observing one tall man and one not-tall woman in conversation might be tempted to believe they could extrapolate it’s content from non-verbal cues, the man turned to face the growing crowd at the Six Sentence Café & Bistro’s first April Fools Day³ open house.

“Oh…kay, I just made it up?”

Mimi smiled at Rosetta who, ferociously not paying attention to the two Proprietors, backed her way into the Ladies Room with a fresh supply of towels and hand lotion, then looked back at the man who had a green bar rag tucked in a twelve-hundred dollar Hermes reversible belt, “I’m sorry did I break your concentration? I didn’t mean to do that, please, continue…”

“… that no two snowflakes are identical, the blizzard knoweth not’ and how in heaven’s name did you manage that,” a nod towards the restrooms on the lighted end of the hallway, “miracle?”