Writing 101, Day Nine: Changing Moccasins — Point of View

Today’s prompt: For today’s assignment, write a scene at the park. Up for a twist? Write the scene from three different points of view.

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.

Our palms are sweaty as we walk through the park on our Sunday stroll. I usually enjoy our time together on these walks; but today, for some reason, something feels not quite right.

I am so nervous right now, I’m surprised I’m not giving his hand the death grip. I scan his face to see if he can sense my fear.

What a lovely day in the park! The air is so much fresher than back at my condo. That reminds me, they said the repairman for the air conditioner will be by tomorrow. I should be sure to get Max out of his way.

She keeps looking at me. I try to keep walking with my eyes straight ahead. I can barely feel my legs, maybe we should find a place to sit down. There’s an old woman on a bench up ahead.

I can barely stand to wait any longer, I have to tell him soon. My hope is that giving him the news in public might make it easier for him to digest it. Harder for him to make a scene.

What a lovely couple walking towards me. I can tell they truly love each other. A woman of my age and experience, we just know. Takes me back to when I first met my loving husband, we took walks in this park every Sunday. We had so many memories in this park.

As we get closer to this bench, the old woman pulls out an old Kroger grocery bag and sets it on the seat next to her. Out of the bag, a large ball of red yarn and a couple of knitting needles. Now where are we supposed to sit?

Ok, here I go. Just as I slow down, turn to look at him and open my mouth to speak- the old woman on the bench takes out the smallest, red sweater I have ever seen. Who could she possibly be knitting a sweater for?! And in this weather?? At the same time, it’s the most adorable sweater I’ve ever seen. I wonder if I will ever make one like it.

One more arm to go, and Max can stay warm when the air conditioner is on. He is so small and sensitive to the cold. I must seem so strange knitting a sweater in the middle of June.

I can tell she is about to say something. It seems important. The butterflies have started to swirl around. And I thought everything was going so well! What did I do wrong? Will she give me a chance to fix this?

I take his hand in mine and look deep into his eyes while I tell him the news. His hand starts to tremble and I place it on my stomach before he starts to cry.

I feel embarrassed to admit that I can’t stop staring at these two young people. I sense some drama between them and I wonder what it could be. I wish my hearing wasn’t so awful so I could hear what’s going on.


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