Amalie – a fragment

“No, I’m not going to tell you.”

She looked away, not at anything in particular, but not at Ronald.

Her hair, curled at the ends, lifted in a breeze.

The wind rose, and rustled through the leaves of trees that surrounded the field.

It bent the blades of grass around them, first one way – showing silver in the late sun appearing from behind a cloud – and then another, showing green.

The wind dropped.

Amalie stared out into the air, past the white-painted goal post – beyond where Ronald stood.

But then Ronald leapt right into her line of vision, and she couldn’t pretend any more – her eyes fell upon him.

“All right,” she said.

She trusted Ronald – she did trust Ronald.

“It’s Geraldine,” she said.


[This seems so simple, but I found it very difficult to write.  It was written as a response to a course – again – the online one.  The tutor didn’t like the way the grass was blown one way and then another – she said it seemed ‘funny’ – which wasn’t a very constructive criticism in any case.  I’ve seen grass blowing one way, catching the colour of silver in the light, and then blowing the other, and appearing green.  In a further edit – once I’d got through the course entirely – I took that out altogether.  But it’s important.  I know what I mean by it – I know what I want to convey – and I may still not have got that right.  But it has to be there for some reason that I’m not sure about at the moment.

Amalie is me – a version of me.  I didn’t realise that until way afterwards – once I’d struggled with this.  But the hair being curled at the ends – that is the give-away.  I have a sister, and our mother used to put these curlers in the bottom of our hair – when we were very young.  But that is another story.

I can’t remember standing in a field with Ronald – I realise that he potentially stands in for two people in my life – maybe my father, but definitely a boy I used to play with when I was young.  What a mischief-maker he was!

But – I could have been standing in a field at some time with Ronald.  And the story – based on characters that I now recognise – not true in any particular autobiographical way.

I’ve had trouble with this story again – I call it a fragment because I know very well that it isn’t a story in itself – it is meant to – bloom – there – I might have given myself another clue.]





4 thoughts on “Amalie – a fragment

  1. Nothing seemed wrong to me about the grass. I think Chris above got it right: you’re describing a gentle, swirling breeze.

    Meanwhile, thank you for taking us through your process! This is an intriguing fragment–what won’t she tell him? Who’s Geraldine and what’s going on with her? I’d love to see more as you work on it.


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