Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
WARNING! This story will be a semi-one-take story. (The ‘semi’ to allow for spelling and word-count adjustment. Once each only.)
There is a good reason for this approach, this week: we might be getting a cold. And, as everyone who approaches learning to write fiction like they learn to sing, i.e. spending hours on the highway with Professor Radio will tell you: the first take is always the hardest (but usually most creative).
Irregardless*, what say we head over to jenne and ceayr‘s soirée and see what’s up at this week’s Unicorn Challenge.
*
The post Freya’s Day 1K -the Wakefield Doctrine- first appeared on the Wakefield Doctrine.“Come on, Seth. Hurry the hell up!
Seth looked at the wall of the bus tunnel. Doubling his resolve, he shook the metal cylinder in his left hand. The ball inside of the can of spray paint made a sound that always made him think of roulette.
“What was that? Did you hear something?”
Regretting his decision to be peer’d into accepting the demands of the fraternity, he made the decision to withdraw his pledge. Almost immediately, his inner critic intoned: ‘She’s right, you know, there’s something missing in you, you don’t ever want to be ‘a part of’. His girlfriend Samantha’s suggestion he join her sorority’s brother frat, Bro-Tu-Bró, was arguably more social anodyne than bromide. He was pretty sure it was an ultimatum, offered with a midnight smile.
The bus tunnel maintained legendary status among students in the city’s colleges. Ranging from the cautionary: ‘The kid tried to run for an access tunnel. The bus got there first. Dental records were required to ID him,” to the intriguing, “Lovecraft, that’s his house on the corner there, held a seance inside the tunnel. Once.”
In recent years, the local tagger community, brought their aerosol-oeuvre; filling the tile walls with proclamations of love and misogyny.
Bathed in the halo-luminescence of the approaching Brown University-DownCity Terminal bus, Seth ran, leaving behind a plastic-capped thurible; on the wall his offering: “ChatGPT is the second bite of the Apple. Fool me once, shame on you, Fool me twice…”.
