HEYYYY everyone! How are all of you peoples? So I am insanely sorry I have not written in a while….kinda had a writers/bloggers block and needed to spend some time away. Now I should be fine and hopefully be able to write a book review and guest post within the next week. So Friday’s writing 101 challenge is to write a story based around this scene and this twist:
“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.”
There will be one thing I change just for the purpose of the story, the holding hands bit which you’ll find out why later. SO here goes:
He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she talked animatedly about her day at work. She worked at a publishing company in the Big Apple, the same publishing company that got them together. He loved working there, and being by her made it even better. She was his light in the middle of the dark, foreboding depths of his life. She had helped him get his life together after finding that his father had died. She had helped celebrate when his sister had gotten married and she was the reason he breathed. He knew that without her his life would be a lot dimmer and he probably would have no soul left, which is why when he thought several months ago about buying that ring in the Pandora store, he knew he was making the right choice. And she is why he sat on one knee and asked her those words he had been waiting to say, “I have loved you from the moment you held me as I cried after I found that my father had just died.I have loved you from the moment when you said you would be honored to join me at my sister’s wedding. And I have loved you the moment you walked into my life with that smiling face and the shy ‘hey’ and so, would you give me the honor of marrying me?” He stared up at her face waiting for a reaction. Waiting for that reaction. And it wasn’t long before she flung her arms around his neck and said that one word that freed him; “Yes”. He cried from the happiness that took over his whole body. He was a lucky man, that he was sure of.
She had had an exciting day at work and when she saw him, she knew she had to tell him. She always wanted to share her news with him because he actually cared. She wasn’t insinuating that no one cared, because she was blessed to have people who loved her and did care, but they just never loved her like he did and she loved him for that. She had grown up with friends who had decided that they would find love by dating relentlessly and she had no problem with the fact that they did; it was their life. But she had, and still, believed that love would find its way to her without the need for dating. She had hoped was probably a lot of her belief because she didn’t date and she wasn’t going to change that because of the whims of one guy. He, though, understood; he was in the same boat as her and she loved him even more for that. Those days where she could just talk to him and he helped her or when he just listened, those were when she started falling for him. She fell for him because of how nice and kind and weird he was, because of how understanding, loving and stubborn he was and so she couldn’t help but freeze when she heard the words she had wanted to hear when they came out of his mouth. She couldn’t help but swell at the sight that the guy she loved, loved her back, and she couldn’t help but thank God for this moment and then say yes and she was more than happy; she was overjoyed.
The Old Lady
She was sitting and knitting another sweater, this time red, for her grandson when she heard and saw the young boy and girl who always strolled by her. She smiled when she saw that the girl was chattering the boy’s ear off, and she grinned even wider when she saw that the boy was listening intently as always. She had first seen them about two years ago on the same bench she was on now. She remembered the day perfectly as that was the day she finally had had enough tears and forced herself to go and knit again in Central Park. It had been around lunchtime when she had seen them that day. They had just been talking a stroll, and from what she could hear, one that involved more talking on the girl’s side. Day after day, she watched as she talked, and he listened with the occasional word for him. Several months back, though, she had noticed that the boy was quieter than usual, more contemplative than usual, and looked as if he was waiting to blurt out words. That’s when she decided that he must be waiting to propose to her; she had seen that with her Marty and she could see it now. After the realization, she grew more and more anxious when they came around by her. She had become very interested in the situation and when the boy got on one knee, she was so happy for the two. After I am finished with this sweater, I will make another for the boy and girl’s future child and give it to them. She couldn’t wait.