For writing 101 assignment the goal is to write a point of view story from this prompt:
A man and a woman walk through the park together, holding hands. They pass an old woman sitting on a bench. The old woman is knitting a small, red sweater. The man begins to cry. Write this scene.
Today’s twist: write the scene from three different points of view: from the perspective of the man, then the woman, and finally the old woman.
I did not expect a romantic walk through the park to end up with me having an emotional panic attack. After an intimate dinner, instead of going straight home we decided to take a “nice” walk through the park. It has been a long time since I, we felt so warm and enduring towards each other, usually our days would be full of arguments and fussing. So we are smiling, talking, touching and holding hands while walking through this park. Then it happened, I saw “her” sitting on the bench, knitting a small red sweater, I stopped walking, as I was staring at her tears started to flow from my eyes. And Lydia once again becomes insensitive. She keeps saying I need to let it go, I need to move on, we need to move on, but how can I, how can we? Could could she forget about what had happened? Doesn’t she care, doesn’t she remember, doesn’t she want to remember? How could see be so numb, so harsh, so unfeeling? It’s like she did not love the baby we lost, it’s like she does not care about me, it’s like she does not care at all. Seeing this lady knitting that tiny sweater took me to a place I was desperate to leave, I thought for a moment I left that place, never to revisit, but I guess not, I’m back and Lydia could care less, that is why I feel the way I do towards her, numb, unfeeling, dead.
The relationship between Sean and I have been touch and go. I did not think we could last. Always fighting and he can be so cold, his words cuts like ice, he makes me feel like I have frost bite, he could be so bitter cold. And he won’t talk. I want us to work, I was talking to a good friend of mine and she suggested we go out for a nice, non-stressful, romantic dinner, don’t talk about our problems, just re-connect, “like the internet,” were her words. So I made reservations with this restaurant, I knew he likes Italian food so I knew this “date” should work. And work it did. I did not expect it to work so well, I felt so good about us, I felt that for the first time in a long time our relationship can work, maybe with some counseling, hopefully he would be receptive of this, our relationship can be strong, stronger, more intimate, more passionate, more loving, more kind. Anyway after such a wonderful time at dinner he suggested we take a walk through the park. I smiled and of course I agreed, I was so happy we us, with me, it has been such a long time. So we are touching and laughing and cuddling and romancing, we’re holding hands just walking casually through this lovely park with beautiful gardenia and magnolia trees that smelled so good against an early fall air. The crickets singing a song, to us, I feel. I’m truly involved with the feeling this evening is leaving me, could not wait to get back home, drink some nice red wine and see where this evening lead, then Sean stopped in his tracks. I looked up at Sean, then I saw this older woman, she is sitting on the bench, knitting a red sweater and I thought; “Here we go.” I looked at Sean and he started to cry, not a brawling cry, like he usually does, but tears started to flow from his eyes, I rolled my eyes, not because I think he’s over reacting, but because I’m trying to get us out of this place of darkness. I have been receiving therapy since the death of our infant daughter, I guess I should had bought him along as well. I just always thought men have a better grasp, a better hold of their feelings, I guess I was wrong, I guess I was wrong all along, now looking at him, looking at her, looking at that tiny red sweater, I wonder where do we go from here?
It’s such a cool fall evening, instead of sitting in my apartment all by myself, well I have Jessie, my cat, but sometimes I want something more, I don’t know what it is about sitting outside in a park but it’s refreshing, better than a stale apartment and the park is only across the street from the apartment building. To keep myself busy while sitting on the bench in the park, I took with me my knitting project I’ve been working on. I’ve been taking knitting classes too, met a couple of gals I don’t mind hanging with from time to time, but this time I just wanted to sit alone, enjoy the cool breeze, the trees, the grass, sitting in silence among city lights. I picked the perfect bench, it’s near this big oak tree and the lights shine directly on me so I can see myself knitting. I never knitted before, I thought learning something new would be good for my mind, I’m doing quite good, we started “making” clothes, this month is sweaters, last month was scarves, so I’m knitting this red sweater. I don’t know why I chose red, I hate the color red, maybe it’s some kind of universe thing talking to me, at least this is what my daughter said, then I’m knitting a little red sweater, it’s so much easier than a big red sweater, she thinks I’m hitting for her to make me a grandma. “Oh no!, I’m not ready for that, just take as much time as you need, no rush to make a child, our teacher just thought smaller items are easier to knit, and she’s right.” Every once in a while I would look up from my knitting, watch people as they walk by, some couples, some people walking by themselves, some people lonely, you could see it in the way they walk and hold their heads down low, and of course the occasional person walking by talking to himself or someone inside his head, then I notice this couple. They looked so happy, you can see it in their smile, in their walk, the way they laughed, the way they playfully walked along the path way, then all of a sudden the guy stopped and just stared at me. I was getting nervous, I did not know what the heck was going on, I looked all around, I thought I did something wrong, I thought I was dressed “funny,” “strange.” His partner even looked at him, then he started to cry. Then I thought to myself, “what was it about me that made him cry?” “Maybe he lost his mother or grandmother?” “Maybe I remind him of someone?” I started to feel bad. “Or maybe the rat bastard cheated on her like that rat bastard of an ex husband did me. Rat bastard!”