I like coming to the park. It clears my head. Not that there’s much going on up there these days. I like to sit and knit or read my book. Sometimes people stop and talk to me. There are always people in here. Couples, groups of young people, parents with their small children. Today I’m knitting a sweater for my granddaughter. Winter’s coming so she needs one. I notice a couple walking towards me on the path. They look unhappy. I wonder what’s wrong. The young people of today think everything’s a tragedy. I know tragedy. I’ve seen war. I’ve seen treachery. I’ve seen evil. Whatever they are ‘going through’, it can’t be that bad. Always making mountains out of molehills. Tomorrow it’ll be something else, I’m sure of it.
We walk in silence. Words don’t come easy to me. I can’t find words to describe what I feel. How can I make her understand that I will ruin her life if we stay together? Why did we come here? Happy people everywhere. Smiling. Laughing. Screw you all! This place reminds me of what I’ll never have. A family. A reason to live. Look at that old woman sitting there knitting. Her face shows that she’s seen much, laughter and frown lines mark her face. Why does she scowl at me like that? She can’t know what I’m feeling. No one does. She’s making something for a baby. I’ll never have a baby. Never know the joy of holding my own child in my arms. Of sharing a love for someone who’s part of me. Here I go again. Here come the tears. Life just isn’t worth enduring all this pain.
I hope the park will inspire him. It always had that effect on me. Seeing happy people makes me happy. Being in nature makes me feel part of something bigger and makes my problems feel small. I wish he’d talk with me. It’s hard having a one sided conversation. Perhaps he needs silence to take it all in. To let the wonder of life wash over him. I know he wants to break up but his reasons don’t make sense. I can make him happy. I can change how he sees things. I just need more time. Look at this old lady sitting on the bench. She’s knitting something. Looks like it’s for a baby. Seeing her is inspiring. I hope he sees that. She’s old but she isn’t mopping around at home waiting for death. She’s pulling herself up, coming out and being on with things. Wait, why’s he crying? Why doesn’t he just chose happiness? Argh!
Thanks for reading x
Writing 101 – the task:
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.
The Special One just highlighted that I didn’t follow the order as I was instructed. I’m going to keep it the way it is though. That’s all. X