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…  Well, in a sense… but you start adding time travel as a plot device, and logical narrative continuity pretty much goes out the window, ya know?

Prompt word:

ORDER

“Here, lemme get that for you…”

The abrupt truncation of the Sophomore’s offer to help the girl struggling with her luggage in the dormitory lobby was very much one of dramatic necessity:

• Dramatic: because an immeasurable instant before saying, ‘Here’, he had been siting in the front passenger seat of an Audi A7 doing 85 mph on Rt 80 in the middle of Pennsylvania;
• Necessity: the ellipsis hung in the air, (as is it’s nature), not only because the German luxury car interior had become a dormitory lobby on the weekend before the start of Fall Semester, but because it was intransigently familiar, not, ‘Of course I know what the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel looks like’, rather in the, ‘This is where we first kissed’ (I was so there) sense.

Ethan smiled down at the girl, ‘Sherry’, a forgotten volume of memory provided as, parting her long, brown and clothes-iron straight hair to either side of her gold wire-rim glasses, she held the door onto the inner courtyard.

All his efforts to convince himself he was car-ride dreaming flew out the no-longer available passenger side window as the couple were hit with waves of music, courtesy of a pair of Pioneer speakers in an open window; Jimi Hendrix singing, ‘Ya Got me Floatin’.

The girl frowned as the boy with her suitcase froze in place; in the forgotten codex of late adolescence, her furrowed brow was a demand for reassurance rather than impatience for the lack of progress.

Ethan van Decken, having experienced, (involuntary) time transit before, wasn’t helped in his struggle to maintain equilibrium as Jimi sang,

“My friends are gonna be there too; I’m on the highway to…”

*

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:

ORDER

“Follow my orders, missy and things will work out better than you might…” Anya’s voice softened, a sociopath’s heartfelt effort to conclude a bedtime story with the traditional coda, “…happily ever after.”

“I’m on the way to the promised land; I’m on the highway to hell…”

AC/DC’s Bon Scott managed a feat very few people have, which is to push Anya Clarieaux off-stage as the Audi’s 23 speakers, using every one of the 1,920 watts in the car’s amplifier, brought the unfortunately-themed song to live performance levels.

What followed, as the sedan barreled down the highway, was every 1960s preadolescent boy’s idea of a wicked-funny joke while waiting for the adult to get to the car, which was to turn on every accessory available: including wipers, turn signals and, best of all, the radio, all functions requiring a running engine.

To her credit, in the midst of the chaos and cacophony of dueling accessories and entertainment systems, Rosetta leaned back in her seat and lit a cigarette, occasionally glancing at her silent companion.

On the display, ‘Collision Imminent Air Bags Armed’ flashed; Rosetta took her foot off the gas and let the car coast to a stop in the breakdown lane as Anya’s voice smiled, “I am not disappointed; the Omni Corporation, which I happen to control, could use a young woman like you.”

*