the Wakefield Doctrine

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, it requires one qualifying characteristic: to be of precisely six sentences in length,

The other half of the conversation? Here

Prompt word:

PARCEL

It’s not true I decided to quit graduate school and start a private investigation agency because of the elevator in an Art Deco office building; at least not entirely.

I smiled at my reflection, expanding into multiple parallelograms as the interior gate closed, each floor mutely shouting a number as the car rose in the shaft.

Picking up a parcel on the floor in front of my office, I passed through the outer office where the green-shaded lamp on my secretary’s desk cast half-hearted shadows on the reception area; at the end of her second day, when I reminded her that I didn’t need a night light after hours, she laughed her best bedroom laugh and said, “I didn’t say it was for you, it’s been my experience that if you find yourself feeling alone, you might want to say a prayer of gratitude.”

I pushed the cardboard-and-Tyvek package onto the top of my desk, a room-temperature icebreaker plowing through the off-white manila folders, cresting right to the edge of the scarred oak surface; deciding that if I couldn’t be where (and with whom) I would like, then I would be with whom I was paid to, so after swiveling my chair to face the windows looking out on the nighttime city, picked up my phone.

“Hello. Yeah, I’m calling on account of Lou; but if you tell him, I’ll deny it and your Saville Row tailored suit won’t make a difference, at least not one that counts…

Can we talk?”

“It’s just that while he appreciates your accommodation in the matter of Miz Storme, he does tend to be somewhat protective to those close to him, hence my reaching out to you.”

*

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, defined by sentence quantity.

Hey! The other half of the conversation? Here.

Prompt word:

PARCEL

“Do you mind if I take this call?”

The tall, thin man watched Rosette Storme, the non-verbal signals played across her face and body like a Postal Service truck exploding over the Grand Canyon in a shower of cardboard and Tyvek’d parcels; he kept his phone a chaste half-inch from his ear until she nodded a half-smile of submission.

“Yes, Mr. Devereaux, I’ve been expecting your call, and now is, in fact, a very good time to talk.”

The Proprietor raised his eyebrows in a manner at once conciliatory yet demanding, every parent’s protest that what they had to do was harder on them than the child; taking a cigarette from a case that would have stocked the Café’s bar for a month of St. Patrick’s Days, Rosette stared back with the dispassionate  concentration of a neurosurgeon reading an MRI scan next to a sedated patient, head already shaved, insensate yet alive.

“I have neither the desire nor the inclination to make this in any way an adversarial relationship…

…I’d hardly consider my wardrobe to be your greatest concern…

….since you’ve brought it up, I have the greatest respect for Mr. Caesare, while Miz Storme is acceptable to everyone here, there is no reason for Mr. Caesare to have any reason to be concerned with her well-being.”

*