Six Sentence Story | the Wakefield Doctrine

Six Sentence Story -the Wakefield Doctrine-

November 6, 2024 By clarkscottroger

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:

WEDGE

“Why do you have to let this become a wedge between us?”

“I know what I said last night and we both know thats not why I said it.”

“Oh, it’s my fault…again.”

“No, but you’re the one who said the time we spent together makes all the bad things worthwhile, or, at least tolerable.”

“I meant it.”

“For god’s sakes, then please just grow up, normal people don’t go into an emotional death-spiral at the end of Daylight Savings Time.”

Filed Under: Featured, Psychology, the Wakefield Doctrine Tagged With: Six Sentence Story, the Wakefield Doctrine

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

November 1, 2024 By clarkscottroger

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.

…previously.

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.

Filed Under: Featured, Psychology, the Wakefield Doctrine Tagged With: Six Sentence Story, the Wakefield Doctrine

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

October 31, 2024 By clarkscottroger

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 numerically eponymous title.

…previously.

Prompt word:

AGENCY

” …left no good deed unpunished, no bad one unrewarded.”

Diane Tierney demonstrated a gift possessed by few women: she smiled seriously as I approached her hostess station.

“I once had a friend, we were waitressing at a supper club when I was still in school, who got it into her head to start a real estate agency just so she could name it ‘Really Realty’,” as she glanced to her upper left, recovering the memory, I found myself captivated by her necklace; a small ruby on a gold chain, ever-so-slightly cantilevered by her collar bones, my fear of looking up grew even as I continued in the opposite direction.

I felt her silence, transmuting into affectionate amusement, as my autonomic nervous system went all civil war on where to send the excess blood supply; gathering the tatters of my confidence, I looked up into her laughing eyes.

To illustrate her interpretation of Walter Maps’ oft-misconstrued aphorism, Diane handed me the brown-paper takeout bag.

“Be careful, Ian, our Ms. Storme is the soul of discord; you might do well to consider changing careers, selling houses has less potential for permanent physical and/or psychological disability.”

Filed Under: Featured, Psychology, the Wakefield Doctrine Tagged With: Six Sentence Story, the Wakefield Doctrine

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

October 23, 2024 By clarkscottroger

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 a single rule: a story is to have six sentences; no more and no less.

Our Ian Devereaux Six is a continuation of this Six

Prompt word:

WEB

“… a tangled web, Devereaux, a fuckin’ tangled web.”

Lou had my attention.

My plan was to say goodnight to Diane Tierney, go home and binge out on a made-for-cable series, something totally demented, like ‘Preacher’; I was half-turned towards the exit, something in his voice made me stop.

I looked down at the man and felt my legs fold into a near-balletic isosceles triangle as I sat back down opposite him in the booth.

The smoke of his cigar, usually shrouding his face, parted for a second and I saw a look in his eyes that, had I retained a tenth of the ambition that made my teenage years such an approach-avoidance hell and even the most rudimentary grasp of rhetoric, I could’ve gone home and written a best selling novel.

“This job, you do it good and I’ll owe you one,” against the ambient light found only in back booths in urban restaurants and failing-college student dorm rooms, Lou’s cigar glowed an abracadabra-red and the smoke returned to its guard duties masking his face.

Filed Under: Featured, Psychology, the Wakefield Doctrine Tagged With: personality types, Six Sentence Story, the Wakefield Doctrine

Second Story Sentence -the Wakefield Doctrine-

October 17, 2024 By clarkscottroger

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 a single rule: a story is to have six sentences; no more and no less.

Prompt word:

PANEL

“Tell me you’re kidding me right now,” the pure light, (the man remembered something, from somewhere, that if all wavelengths, balanced and combined, would result in a perfectly colorless light), seemed to surge, the energy-equivalent of a nod.

“What the fuck, man…;” a single point source of all energy in the universe, (‘the singularity of existence’ a google-search return once called it, but he was drunk at the time, so…), could not, by definition, fluctuate; but there was an undeniable element of the briefest interval of non-coherence in the thing in front of the man, though, to be fair, it passed as quickly as it arose.

“Not saying that a single, dark-haired bearded white guy sitting in judgement ain’t nothin’ more than patriarchy-gone-wild, but a panel of my peers holding the fate of my eternal soul in their hands,” he looked to the double, stepped-row of seated men and women who looked familiar if not rather stern and dour.

Turning his back on jury, the man felt a smile grow, the ultimate light-source before him seemed to fade in benign modulation.

“Then I claim my voir dire rights, and designate the following replacement jurors: Nema, Ola, Bella, Una, Mia and… and that dog I saw once stuck by the side of an abandoned house that time, I will only accept judgment by them.”

Seeing how energy is energy, and sound is, in our present conceit, merely very slow light, the man heard the barking and yelping of welcome as he stepped through the Pearly Gates, some of his jurors running ahead, (just for the joy of running), and two hung back, leaning into his legs, not that additional support was needed, ever again.