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.
Red was the color my two years younger brother loved. It suited him too. When he was five; mother started knitting a red sweater for him. In the evening she will come to the park sit on this particular bench with brother playing nearby and knit. But before she could finish he died in an accident. The agony mother went through was unbearable for me. Mother could not overcome her grief and died after five years.Today when I saw this old lady sitting on the same bench, knitting the red sweater, she reminded me of my mother and I could not stop crying. My wife understanding my feeling squeezed my hand and we passed by.
I knew the scene reminded him of his mother. When he was seven years old, one day he was cycling, his younger brother came running to him pleading to take him along on the bicycle. He collided with him and fell down; his head stuck the concrete road making him unconscious. He died after 48 hours. My husband always feels guilty and blames himself for the accident and his mother’s sufferings.
I said nothing just squeezed his hand and let the moment pass. I knew he will overcome his feelings and will be alright after sometime.
The old woman
I love this park, this particular bench; it’s very comfortable and love knitting while watching children playing all around me. When I saw this man looking at me then this red sweater and suddenly burst in crying, I understood that there are touchy memories attached to this. I was curious and wanted to ask him but checked myself in time lest I hurt him more. They passed by holding hands.