Psychology | the Wakefield Doctrine - Part 55 Psychology | the Wakefield Doctrine - Part 55

TToT-the Wakefield Doctrine-

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

This is our contribution to the Ten Things of Thankful (TToT) bloghop.

It is not raining at this particular moment (11:22) but an unlisted Grat for this post is that we know our Readers will not hold it against us if we skip the editing and get outside and doing something lawnistically-speaking.

thanks

1) Phyllis

2) Una

3) the Wakefield Doctrine

4) the Six Sentence Story bloghop  Six-Pick of the Week: ‘Sands of Time‘  by Eliza Seymour

5) the Unicorn Challenge  ‘corn in the morn pick, [funny thing about this pick*] : ‘Western Sunset‘ by Tom

6) * sure, we liked the story but, the thing about good writing (from the perspective of the Writer and the Reader) is sometimes our fiction contains elements that stand out that we, the writer may not have ‘tried for’. Taking liberites here, I haven’t asked Tom directly but reading the Comments makes me feel this story has one surprise elements

7) co-writing a serial story with Tom… “Of Heroes and the MisUnderstood

8) somoething, something**

9) ** spellczech. (ha ha)

10) Secret Rule 1.3

music vids

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FR–ô ó–Dh..ā -the Wakefield Doctrine-

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

This is the Wakefield Doctrine’s contribution to ‘the Unicorn Challenge

Hosted each week by jenne and ceayr, we who are about to write are tasked with creating a story, (a world, a glimpse off the continuum or, perhaps merely a daydream), inspired by the week’s photo image. The limit to this construction is that it require no more than two hundred and fifty words to convey.

 

 

“But, gran’pa, you said you’d show me a castle, the place where you used to work.”

The boy, secured by the momentary tether of his five-year-old hand to an arthritic, age-mottled pier, looked up. In his innocent eyes, a power that shamans, priests and cult-leaders through the ages have vainly sought, proof of status and favor with both gods and demons.

“It is,” the tug on his hand reminded the old man that his practiced-slow gait was more than the earned leisure of a retired locksmith/shop-owner; it was a silent strategy to avoid shuffling off Hamlet’s coil unintentionally. His secret smile pressed an emphasis on the last word, one from which his children would recoil and his grandson lacked the lexicon.

Only his dog, leaning against the leg opposite the boy, could intuit the ever-present siren song that sound-tracked his days. Despite her own gait, a four-legged mirror of the man, the peace in her eyes offered more strength than Science and god combined.

This is,” even as the grey became confident blue and the bricks of the sidewalk shouldered themselves into a carpet of secure predictability and, not without causing distant-lightning flash of fear, the hint of shadows knitting in customers, shop-owners and loved ones.

“This was.”

“Slow down, you two,” the voice of the boy’s mother, a tide far stronger than the momentary dock line pulled the boy into the future.

The dog never moved, The old man felt the world recede, the ultimate tide.

 

 

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Six Sentence Story -the Wakefield Doctrine- ‘…of Heroes and the MisUnderstood’ [Anya-Lou-Cyrus]

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.

It is hosted by Denise and has a strict Six Sentence Limit

Speaking of ‘Penny Dreadfuls’, Tom and I are writing a Serial Six Sentence Story: ‘…of Heroes and the MisUnderstood‘.

 

Prompt word:

GRAIN

Cyrus St. Loreto muttered something in the key of involuntary resignation to the unexpected presence of one of the few women he genuinely respected and chose his words carefully, “Miss Claireaux, I will not insult you with a question regarding your participation in this private discussion on what the Bernebau Company’s former IT Department insists is a secure line.”

Her laughter evoked the downcast eyes and fingers-to-mouth blushing female characters found in so many romance novels set in the mid-to-late 19th century, replied, “Cyrus, declar că oamenii tăi cunosc cu siguranță calea către inima unei femei.”

“You’re crazy as a loon, Anya, gotta say, I like that about you,” Lou Caesare came as close to smiling as Diane Tierney could recall seeing in recent days; “I just got a call from my people, they’re on their way home, I am gladly in your debt,” the gruff edge to his voice enhanced the sincerity of his compliment, “I owe ya.”

“You don’t owe me a thing, Lou,” the Lady from Chicago did something with her voice, shifting from a warm affection for a favored uncle (or family dog), to the hard-edged tone of a life-or-death negotiator being informed of a terminal diagnosis, “As to you, Mr. St. Loreto, I have a parting gift; a list of mid-level functionaries embedded in the security apparatus of most countries who are, in fact, the eyes and ears of a certain secret, quasi-religious organization reputed to be headquartered in Germany.

“I’ll bid you both adieu for now with a reminder: while muscle and direct force serves one of you well and centuries of life affords the other a perspective on the minds of normal men, from the center of my world, both virtual and common, I’ll borrow from Blake, ‘To see a World in a Grain of Sand’.”

 

[Eibigen Abby
Rüdesheim am Rhein, Germany]

Bring the young man from the GHCS, he can now be of use to the Order; as you wish, Reverend Mother

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Six Sentence Story -the Wakefield Doctrine- ‘…of Heroes and the MisUnderstood’ [Cyrus-Lou-Anya]

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.

It is hosted by Denise and has a strict Six Sentence Limit

Speaking of ‘Penny Dreadfuls‘, Tom and I are writing a Serial Six Sentence Story: ‘…of Heroes and the MisUnderstood‘. (Get your ownself all caught-up before the story ends)

Prompt word:

GRAIN

“Your efforts to assist my organization in this matter of Mooncross Industries has, regrettably, been insufficient; I would be remiss, Mr. Caesare, were I not to remind you that no information coming out of our mutual effort find it’s way into the public eye; negligence in this matter would be quite ill-advised.”

Diane Tierney watched Lou’s face as the voice on the other end of the call slithered out of the handset in search of something to poison; for his part, the owner of the Bottom of the Sea Strip Club and Lounge winked at her and began to make faces at the old-fashioned, very non-video handset; Diane knew boss’s ‘tell’ was nothing as obvious as a scowl or reddening of the face, as he replied to Cyrus St. Loreto, the calm in his tone making his contribution to the surprise telephone call all the more effective.

“Hey, Count Chocula, where I come from we have something called omertà, it’s a code of silence that’s kept people like me in business for quite some time; maybe if your ancestors didn’t have slaughter-everyone-in-the-village engrained in their culture, you could leave the garlic necklaces and heads-on-stakes behind and come live in the 21st-fuckin’-Century; no one and nothin’ leaves my organization without my say so, capiche?

And, while we’re on the subject of who was doing who a favor, when were you gonna tell me about your goddamn super-powered friends, that Co-Ordination of Super Villains bunch; if I hadn’t sent the two people I did, your company’s name would be all over every tabloid in England by now.”

“Boys, boys…boys how about you stop with the ‘who’s penis to bigger or longer or whatever metric you obsess over and act like adults, can you do that for me?”

Anya Claireaux’s voice stepped seamlessly between the two men; underneath the smiling tone, the wheedle of a teenaged girl discovering the power to make her two-week boyfriend drive their stolen car off the interstate and rob the first filling station they came to; not because she needed money, just because.

 

 

 

 

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Six Sentence Story -the Wakefield Doctrine- ‘…of Heroes and the MisUnderstood” […then there were four; not counting that Alex guy]

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

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

It is hosted by Denise and has a strict Six Sentence Limit

Speaking of ‘Penny Dreadfuls’, Tom and I are writing a Serial Six Sentence Story: ‘…of Heroes and the MisUnderstood‘.

This Six below is meant to follow Tom’s most recent ‘Old Friends, New Friends

Prompt word:

GRAIN

“Moonbeam, seeing how you already made the drive up here from Shogun International Airport,” Rue DeNite stood on the sill of the open right-front passenger door of the SUV in which she and Moonbeam had arrived at Mooncross Industries, an unfortunate thirty minutes late.

Addressing the small group gathered in the parking lot, she looked first at Rocco, her erstwhile bodyguard and putative lover; then Isla, the young mercenary hired to kidnap them from their Airbnb in a posh London suburb; some guy named Alex; and finally, Moonbeam,  a member of something called the Co-ordination of Supervillains and suitor wannabe.

Rue’s expression, which could be accurately, albeit poetically, described as, ‘the texture and grain of extreme exhaustion, writ in flesh’, dared them to ask what airport she was talking about, “What say we get Rocco to drive, give him something to do with his hands and I’ll sit in back and get to know our little home-invader, Isla, a little better.”

“Sounds good, Rue,” Moonbeam, sounding tired, in a PTSD sort of way, slid behind the wheel and on the final ‘thunk’ of a closing door, gravel-crunched the vehicle down the hill and onto the highway back to Reykjavik.

 

[GCHQ London Branch]

“Watch Supervisor Colonel Villicus, you have a call from Number 10 on Line 23.” Reflexively nodding assent to the disembodied voice, Mrs Villicus’s son removed a handset from a locked enclosure and intoned first words of the introductory rites of the Security and Surveillance State, “Yes sir?”

 

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