A/N: Today is my friend artismysanity's birthday! Happy Birthday, Girl! I wanted to give you a present, so here is a series of vignettes. (Spoiler Warning: if you haven't read it, there is an excerpt of an interview with Amy in 1969 in the print anthology of Summer Falls and Other Stories. If you don't want spoilers, don't read these vignettes!)

My Daughter

The first time she set out was just after dusk on July 4, 1969. Thinking like a writer, Independence Day seemed like a good place to start; strong symbolism and all that. She'd stop in every alley and flick on her torch—no, they were called flashlights in America—and wave it about like The Doctor used to with his sonic screwdriver.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

But Independence Day came and went and Amy Pond—no, they called her Amelia Williams in America—staggered home, her fingers numb and frozen into a claw as if they were still clutching the flashlight. She passed by Anthony's empty room on her way to their bedroom and climbed under the warm covers without changing out of her heavy red-and-black plaid shirt. She knew Rory was awake, because he wasn't making the fluttery whistle that old age had blessed him with a few years back, but like the good husband he was, he didn't say anything. Amy closed her eyes, but she didn't sleep.