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 with Rosetta… / Previously with Ian…
Prompt word:
SHUFFLE
“Hold on Mr. Devereaux, I’ll patch you through.”
The Delta Lounge at Philadelphia’s International Airport offered a panoramic view of all the non-diverted flights taking off, a minor consolation being ZZ Top doing their Texas-shuffle classic ‘La Grange’ in rotation on the sound system; for god knows what reason, I found myself thinking the best use of time during my unscheduled layover was to try and rattle my favorite adversary, of course, that being Anya Clarieaux, was not exactly a low-risk gambit.
The operator was human as I knew for a fact that the de-facto head of the Omni Corporation would no more utilize an AI than the Pope would ask for a Ritz Cracker in the middle of Easter Mass; Anya Clarieaux shared a quality with most kindergarten teachers, charismatic preachers and third-world dictators, i.e. she trusted herself and only herself.
“Ian Devereaux, what a delightful surprise; I’m on the line with Lou Caesare’s niece Rosetta and her little friend ‘the Valedictorian’… sorry… ‘the Sophomore’ (does he have a real name like Sam or Elmer)…never mind; Ian, you always bring me the nicest playmates; remind me to thank you sometime, in person… wait a minute, Miz Storme, this is speaker phone time, you were saying…”
“I don’t give a shit about time machines, time clocks or closing time, all I want is for someone to get that fuckin’ Order of Lilith off my case.”
Anya laughed her slightly-scary laugh, “Talk not far from the tree; not to worry Rosetta, I happen to know a representative of that organization who I met in London with Ian a few years ago by the name of Sister Aclima…
“I know what’d make this even more fun, hold on you two, (sorry Elmer, you three), the clickety sound of an old-fashion telephone dial rotating then a ringing sound followed by a woman asking the most ubiquitous of one-word questions, “Yes?”
“Sista A how you been…. it’s your friend Anya… Anya Clarieaux… shame, shame, chica, you haven’t been keeping in touch… ‘fraid you might’ve thought you could ghost me after that time in London, wait hold on…
Ian, you have done it again… I believe what we got here is a ‘bottle episode’.”
*
*









