An attempt at descriptive prose

She had a green hat on her head.

She wore a green hat.

There was a green hat balanced on her head.

She wore a striking lime green hat. (That was better, specific in colour and an adjective.)

The hat was balanced on the head of a young woman. (A 180 degree change of perspective, it was now the hat not the woman that was at the center).

The hat had been chosen specifically for an exercise in prose. As had the woman. It was Herr Muller who had suggested Agnes to the writer.

“You mean like an artist’s model?” the writer had said.

“Precisely, a verbal artists model. You can take your time describing her, experiment with different prose styles. No need to worry about being misunderstood.”

The writer had recently been arrested for following a young woman around. “I was trying to describe her shoes,” the writer had explained to the police Inspector. She had been wearing unusual shoes, of a type that was not easy to describe.  He had followed her all day, describing her shoes in a hundred different ways, yet he remained unsatisfied.

“I could take the hat off,” Agnes said.

“No, no,” said the writer. “The hat is perfect, I’m just searching for the right way – could you try wearing the hat at a jaunty angle.”

“A jaunty angle?”

There was a knock at the door.

“I just need to get that,” said the writer.

At the door he recognized the policeman who had arrested him the previous week.

“We’ve had reports of a stolen hat,” the Inspector said.

“A stolen hat was seen entering this house,” the Inspector said.

“We believe that you might be harboring a green hat, wanted in connection with a crime,” the Inspector said.

“Take your time,” the writer said.

“Are you harboring a green hat?”, the Inspector said.

“You’re doing very well,” the writer said.

Herr Muller had recommended the writer to the Inspector.

“You mean like an artist’s model?” the Inspector had said.

“Precisely, a police-investigator's model. You can take your time experimenting with different styles of inquiry.”

“Is there a green hat in this house?” the Inspector asked.

The green hat.

The hat seemed central to all of this.

To the young woman, Agnes, on whom the hat was perched.

To the policeman, who was seeking the hat out.

To the writer, who was struggling to describe a jauntily-worn lime-green hat.

Yet through all of this the hat had said nothing.