the Wakefield Doctrine

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, constrained by a sentence limit (high and low) of six, there are worse ways to spend the remaining time you have on earth.

Previously…

Prompt word:

VOW

A young man, of indeterminate age, sat on the edge of the king-sized bed in a Ritz-Carlton hotel suite, staring at the room service cart.

“Despite the best minds of past generations holding Dante in the highest of esteem, he totally missed the boat on his Circles of Hell: an eternity of mornings without coffee, cigarettes and, unless I’m mistaken, fresh Pain au Chocolat.”

A slender female hand slithered out of a 666 ct linen sheet cave and two fingers, with five hundred dollars of decorations on the nails, waggled at the Sophomore.

“Tobacco. Caffeine. In that order; do it and I vow to listen to your entire psycho-temporal critique of Signore Alighieri’s religious acid trip, aaiight?”

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, constrained by a sentence limit (high and low) of six, there are worse ways to spend the remaining time you have on earth.

Previously…

Prompt word:

FORCE

I managed to arrive in time for Leanne’s closing of the last lecture of the semester; the auditorium was packed, with the young grad students in the spell of my friend’s intellect, you could hear a pin drop as I waited for the closing rhetorical flourish an element of her teaching style that, in part, accounted for her being the youngest department chair at Radcliffe.

“That will be all, class; finals are next week, if you have any issues make an appointment and we’ll make you understand what is expected of you, this is Cultural Semiotics people, not rocket science; if doubts linger, remember what Carl Jung said “Das wisst ihr ja bereits, überprüft eure Archetypen! Und vielleicht solltet ihr eure Dosis an halluzinogenen Substanzen erhöhen.”

Although I stood in the open doorway of the lecture hall laughing, the river of exiting graduate students flowed around me into the lobby and from there the campus at large; I was not bumped into, jostled or otherwise affected… physically.

“Your gung fu is mighty, sensei,” Dr. Leanne Thunberg, laughing in a way that somehow was PG, R and, somehow, the hint of an X Rating, put her left arm around my waist and steered me through the human-rapids of the still very busy corridor; force of Nature came to mind as the crowd parted before her.

“If you feel invisible, hell, insubstantial, it’s your age,” I let her guide me to the exit and out onto the former Radcliffe, now Harvard quad; “I’m visible, mostly because I am a force in the academic lives of these kids, like god or spirit of the place. And if you’re good and asking me interesting questions, I will allow you to make an offering at my…temple.”

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, constrained by a sentence limit (high and low) of six, there are worse ways to spend the remaining time you have on earth.

Previously…

Prompt word:

ECHO

The car crossed the Brooklyn Bridge and was absorbed into the Manhattan transportation infrastructure like a rogue white cell; the system and the cell, bound by mortal purpose such that even the survivor would never be the same. Were this a melodrama, one might consider extending the metaphor to the two passengers, their relationship threatening to overcome the natural momentum of the plot.

“So, what, might I ask is your plan,” the Sophomore held his Zippo until the end of the driver’s cigarette glowed, he then lit his own before flicking the shiny-metal lighter shut; if floating labels did not run the risk of excess frivolity, his would be ‘Drama’ or for the more classically-inclined, ‘dharma’.

“Whaddya mean?” Rosetta Storme’s ‘floating designator’ would surely be ‘Melodrama’; that the risk of emotional echos between the two creating a deafening feedback loop, mores the narrative inertia, as we’re drawn along with the two young people.

The Sophomore looked over to Rosetta, a smile shouldering whatever lingering doubts he may have about the girl driving, “Did I ever tell you about how, in the early seventies there were demonstrations, for, just about everything and… and this is the part that should be of interest to both of us, the second wave of the feminist movement started, like, in the late sixties, early 70s.”

The young woman turned and, putting her right hand to the back of the essentially-younger man’s neck drew him into a kiss that not only lasted long enough to get through the last toll booth, but through the magic of Melodrama, convinced the automated machine to raise it’s pole and flash an unabashed green light, “Well, as far as my role in this adventure, I plan to find this nun, make her tell me where the time machine thingie is and keep it out of the hands of that woman my uncle hates….capische?”

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, constrained by a sentence limit (high and low) of six, there are worse ways to spend the remaining time you have on earth.

Previously in this storyline…

Prompt word:

ECHO

“Something tells me you’re bound for the Windy City; you want I should book you a flight or will Ms. Clarieaux send one of her private brooms?”

The key to a good administrative assistant is a facility for extrapolation; I mean Hazel could have suggested that returning to Harvard and enrolling in their Divinity School might be useful in dealing with the Woman in Chicago, but she didn’t and she had a look in her eyes that made me realize the key to being a good boss is to stay focused.

“Yeah, no, I think you should handle my travel arrangements; of course the beauty part of working for Lou is not worrying about expenses, he’s never been stingy when it concerns family… blood, not crime; speaking of Ivy League, I think I need to pay my favorite Chair of the Department of Semiotics and Advanced Anthropology a visit first.”

“You do know, they have this thing called a telephone; I hear you can even see the person you are talking to, if you have the right connections, though the occasional echo can be annoying…” Hazel likes to kid me.

“Nah, with a topic being secret societies, death squads and waging a war against patriarchy down through the history of Man, I like to be able to get ‘hands on’.”

Hazel had a laugh that, if they hadn’t invented sex, women would still be in a position to get men hooked and willing to do anything for them, at least those who could laugh like her.