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 defined by it’s numerical eponymous title.
Prompt word:
AGENCY
“What an asshole.”
The tall, thin man sat, the music flooding the Café public spaces having chased him to the Manager’s office and accepted the fact he needed to take stock, not only of himself, but the new human-variable introduced to the Six Sentence Café & Bistro …but, mostly of himself.
He put his recent conversation with the young woman who showed up as unexpectedly as spray painted obscenities on a bus stop kiosk, on continuous playback; his assessment, free of the actual reality of their interaction, was constrained to the point of impotency, “What a thoroughly unlikeable young woman.”
Rosetta Storme initially fascinated the Proprietor, she was everything men dreamt of and women told themselves they knew better than; until, that is, he gave her an opportunity to speak freely.
“I don’t get how this place is supposed to be so fuckin’ special; if you ask me, it’s really kinda weird.”
Now, alone, the Proprietor took cold comfort in having access to certain, extra-legal agencies, willing for a certain fee, to exert any degree of behavioral modification he might desire; but mostly he was pissed that he actually did ask her.