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 out current tale…
Prompt word:
SIGNAL
“Gotta say, there’s something not right…”
Lou Caesare was not a man given to public displays of emotion, however, in his professional life there were exceptions; for example: after concluding a traditional Ben Franklin Close following a formal presentation to a recalcitrant competitor, nearby tables would be at risk of inversion, chairs and other random furniture might be employed to increase the airflow of the room.
“My great-aunt Rosa, may she rest in peace, a devout Catholic all her life, could lay a novena on ya like breakin’ sticks. Not that there weren’t stories about her knowing things that hadn’t, technically, occurred yet, but not for nothin’, it was from her and not the nuns or even the pastor doin’ their best to show me the path that I got most of my business… acumen,” Lou smiled around the word.
On the stool to Lou’s right, Hazel Grover, in a stunning example of ‘signal-over-message’, smiled at the tall, thin man who was standing next to a woman seated at the waitress station end of the bar; just past them was an opening with an arrow to the left labeled Men/Women/Human, to the right a sign saying ‘This Way to the Manager’s office’, unfortunately the lighting seemed consciously unreliable, enough illumination to allow the door to be seen, but not enough to guarantee safe passage.
The tall, thin man had, upon entering the Café, removed a dark blue watch cap and was now handing it to the woman; this gesture possessed a degree of formality the hat’s casual style served to accentuate; for her part, the woman, wearing a pair of Balenciaga sneakers and a Mikimoto matinee necklace, turned and nodded to Lou.
“…back ‘atcha, ma traiteuse,” smiling his acknowledgment, the owner of the Bottom of the Sea Strip Club and Lounge stood and walked to the exit, his resolve renewed.







