STAFFORD AFTERNOONS Annabel and Milli Stafford Afternoons Only

STAFFORD AFTERNOONS Annabel and Milli

Stafford Afternoons Only there, the afternoons could suddenly pause and when I looked up from lacing my shoe a long road held no one, the gardens were empty, an ice-cream van chimed and dwindled away. On the motorway bridge, I waved at windscreens, oddly hurt by the blurred waves back, the speed. So I let a horse in the noisy field sponge at my palm and invented, in colour, a vivid lie for us both. In a cul-de-sac, a strange boy threw a stone. I crawled through a hedge into long grass at the edge of a small wood, lonely and thrilled. The green silence gulped once and swallowed me whole. I knew it was dangerous. The way the trees drew sly faces from light and shade, the wood let out its sticky breath on the back of my neck, and flowering nettles gathered spit in their throats. Too late. Touch, said the long-haired man who stood, legs apart, by a silver birch with a living, purple root in his hand. The sight made sound rush back; birds, a distant lawnmower, his hoarse, frightful endearments as I backed away then ran all the way home; into a game where children scattered and shrieked and time fell from the sky like a red ball.

Only there, the afternoons could suddenly pause and when I looked up from lacing my shoe a long road held no one, the gardens were empty, an ice-cream van chimed and dwindled away. On the motorway bridge, I waved at windscreens, oddly hurt by the blurred waves back, the speed. So I let a horse in the noisy field sponge at my palm and invented, in colour, a vivid lie for us both. In a cul-de-sac, a strange boy threw a stone. I crawled through a hedge into long grass at the edge of a small wood, lonely and thrilled. The green silence gulped once and swallowed me whole.

I knew it was dangerous. The way the trees drew sly faces from light and shade, the wood let out its sticky breath on the back of my neck, and flowering nettles gathered spit in their throats. Too late. Touch, said the long-haired man who stood, legs apart, by a silver birch with a living, purple root in his hand. The sight made sound rush back; birds, a distant lawnmower, his hoarse, frightful endearments as I backed away then ran all the way home; into a game where children scattered and shrieked and time fell from the sky like a red ball.

Childhood experiences Memories are so vivid, can recall them at any point ‘There’ – Stafford, her childhood home She can’t remember who lived on her street. Everyone's grown up Feeling of rejection, hurt by adults not playing her game Imagining a horse, continuing to play, childlike Enclosed, safe environment Only there, the afternoons could suddenly pause and when I looked up from lacing my shoe a long road held no one, the gardens were empty, an ice-cream van chimed and dwindled away. Highlights her youth ‘Dwindled’ – going away, like her youth ‘Windscreen’ – Protected behind a screen, protected from real world On the motorway bridge, I waved at windscreens, oddly hurt by the blurred waves back, the speed. ‘Lie’ – Pretending that the real So I let a horse in the noisy field sponge at my palm world doesn’t exist and invented, in colour, a vivid lie for us both. Made up, childlike, escape from the real world In a cul-de-sac, a strange boy threw a stone. Foreshadows later event, stranger I crawled through a hedge into long grass Oxymoron at the edge of a small wood, lonely and thrilled. The green silence gulped once and swallowed me whole. Personification – Relief of invisibility, can hide away, adventure, exploring

She's excited by curiosity, doing the unexpected, breaking the rules. in the safety of the grass something bad is always around the corner. Personification Scared – she’s been haunted by this voice she heard all those years ago. Its left an impact on her Sibilance& Personification She is unaware of everything around her, she has been stunned by this act, she's frozen. Growing up I knew it was dangerous. The way the trees drew sly faces from light and shade, the wood let out its sticky breath on the back of my neck, and flowering nettles gathered spit in their throats. Fairy tales are alive and dangerous, every child has an imagination. She is imagining this un safe environment … She cannot run from the ‘breath’ that she has created herself, that childhood imagination Too late. Touch, said the long-haired man who stood, legs apart, by a silver birch with a living, purple root in his hand. The sight made sound rush back; birds, a distant lawnmower, The poison is building up, the bad nature of life is increasing rising his hoarse, frightful endearments as I backed away then ran all the way home; into a game where children scattered and shrieked and time fell from the sky like a red ball. The way he speaks, she can identify his tone, tormenting her as she realises what she possibly escaped from Alliteration - Exaggerated parody communicates relief of being back in a world of play, fun and games. The closure she’s use to No ones there to catch the ball they’ve all grown up, the ball has dropped from the sky and they have all been forced to finally grow up Oxymoron Simile – represented in a game, going back to being a child so unaware of the dangers outside of the closure. Refusing to grow up. Childish phrase – her first sexual awakening. This strange man is stood in front of her ready to flash. She can only reference back to it as the ‘purple root’ for she is embarrassed, this horrific incident has stuck with her, as if she's stuck in the moment in time of when it happened as a child

Structure First three stanzas – Show the positive side of childhood. Show she is very protected and safe. Second three stanzas – Show realisation of the real world. The negative side of having to grow up. No rhyme scheme – represents that here is no rhythm to growing up. All stanzas start with a capital letter apart from last one – Shows that the memory is coming back which causes her to pause because of stress.

Themes Childhood memories Growing up Realisation of real world Sexual awakening Time Closure

Jung (Psychologist) • • • Jung agreed with Freud that a person’s past and childhood experiences determined future behaviour He also believed that we are shaped by our future (aspirations) too. According to Jung the human mind has innate characteristics “imprinted" on it as a result of evolution. Jung called these ancestral memories and images archetypes. Archetypes are images and thoughts which have universal meanings across cultures which may show up I dreams, literature, art or religion. For Jung, our primitive past becomes the basis of the human psyche, directing and influencing present behaviour.