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 each week by Denise, all we’re asked to do is write a story of six (and only six) sentences.
The last time we saw the tall, thin man and the Sophomore… (click here)
(Hey, shoutout to Rockstar Girl. Her Six this week was a masterful display of the use of anaphora. Far be it from us to resist the temptation, lol. ‘a course, we don’t quite employ this excellent rhetorical device with the simple grace as did she.)
Prompt word:
TASK
For the first time since entering the Manager’s office, the Sophomore’s confidence began to fray, shuddery as the moment after a near-miss between an inattentive driver and a freight train at a crossing so familiar it neglected to blow it’s cursory warning.
For the first time since a searing night with a woman whose name he’d scratched from his conscious memory like the prisoner in solitary confinement marking time with bloody finger nails, the tall, thin man felt vulnerable.
One of the two thought, ‘Maybe I need to give up this time-traveler thing, the security that nothing imagined can cause harm to others, might not be so ironclad’.
One of the two fought to repress the thought, ‘This is bullshit, why get caught up in this; emotion and reason are like… oil and sugar, or some-fricken-thing.”
The task before the two individuals differed only in terms of their respective resolve to draw aside the veil and pay a price that can only be self-inflicted.
“You know what I think…” the Sophomore leaned into his words, the better to surmount the wall he believed was there;
“I think you know better…”, the tall, thin man let his words settle on the surface of the desk that separated the two men.