Posted in Writing 101

Day Nine: Point of View

Today’s 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.

We encourage you to give fiction a try, even if that not what you normally do — it can be a fun way to stretch. If fiction feels like a bridge to far, take some element from the scene that speaks to you, and write a non-fiction piece about that. Perhaps you are drawn to the old woman, and will write a piece about your grandmother, or the crying man will inspire a story about the last time you cried joyful tears.

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.

If point of view was an object, it would be William Carlos Williams’ infamous red wheelbarrow; everything depends on it.

Man’s Point of view

Alhamdulillah, finally I got my holiday for a week. It was difficult to find times for my amazing wife, Safira. I’m always busy with my job. I admit I often leave my wife alone in our apartment. I have a wonderful plan to spend this holiday with her. We just married. So, I missed a romance moment, walking and enjoying our times together.

“Hun, do you mind if we walk to the town park this evening?”

“Sound lovely. I know the reason, why you chose that place,” said Safira. She has approved my plan.

“Thanks Hun!” I kiss her forehead warmly.

We don’t need to prepare something. We leave our apartment and walk to the park.

That park is very beautiful. I see many flowers there. They’re smell good. I hold my wife’s hand. I want to feel her warm. She is lovely. And I can feel her pure love by holding her hand. She smiles at me. I want to hug her, but I’m shy to do it in public place.

“Hun, look at the children! They’re so adorable. I imagine our baby, it’d be nice if we can play and enjoy such this time together!” said Safira hopefully.

“We will, insha’Allah!”

We walk again to see other scenes. My eyes catch the old woman who is sitting on the bench  She is knitting a small red sweater. She is making it skillfully.

“She is like….”

My last memory about my religion teacher came to my mind. Madam Husna was a great teacher. She was alone spent her life. One thing that broke my heart was I couldn’t visit her when she was gotten the treatment. I was busy with my work. When I came, she had passed away.

I felt hurt. I can’t forgive myself. And this old woman is really like Madam Husna. I can’t keep my sadness, then I sit with knees in front of her. I hold her right hand and kissed it mannerly.

“Who are you? Let go of!”  The old woman asks me. She is quiet confuse. Her a small red sweater is fallen from her hands.

My wife wipes my tears, and says, “Dear, let her alone! What’s up with you?”

“I don’t want to leave her alone. Not anymore! I’d be there to accompany her. She is like…….” I can’t continue my answer. I’m crying in front of my wife and the old woman. I can’t hide my sadness. It’s still hurt. Safira hugs me and say, “Let her alone, please! Please!”

Woman’s point of view

I’m very happy now! Indeed! It’s amazing that my husband Ali gets his holiday for a week. It’d be interesting to spend times together with him. He is a lovely husband for me. He is warm and all heart. I love him a lot. I’m so blessed become his wife.

I often stay at home alone. He suggested me to take rest from my job, because I have some problems with my health. I really hope this holiday will be fun.

Now, I’m lying on bed, when he comes. He walks toward me and asks me about plan of holiday.

“Hun, do you mind if we walk to the town-park this evening?”

“Sound lovely. I know the reason, why you chose that place,” I approve his plan.

He smiles at me, and kisses my forehead, “Thanks Hun!”

After praying ashar, we go to park. Ali holds my hand with love.

“Ah, he is so sweet. So romantic! I miss this moment.”

I look around and see the visitors. I can see the happiness from the faces of children. They are playing hide and seek, running to catch balloon. Lovely to see!

“Hun, look at the children! They’re so adorable. I imagine our baby, it’d be nice if we can play and enjoy such this time together!” say I to my hubby.

“We will, insha’Allah!”

We walk again to see other scenes. When we pass the old woman, my hubby stops his walk and stares at her, the old woman who is sitting on the bench. She is knitting a small red sweater. She is making it beautifully. She is very active, indeed! I ask to myself why she sits here alone. Where is her family?

I see my hubby begins to cry. I don’t understand with him. Suddenly, he sits with knees in front of her. He holds the old woman’s right hand and kissed it mannerly.

“Who are you? Let go of!”  The old woman asks him. She is quiet confuse. Her a small red sweater is fallen from her hands.

I’m really confused with him. But, I can’t do anything for a while. I can feel the sadness of him. I try to wipe the tears on his face, “Dear, let her alone! What’s up with you?”

My hubby doesn’t respond me. I don’t know why he did it to the old woman. I really don’t know about that. I just can feel his sadness, but what is it about? Was there a sad story of him in the past? You made me sad, my love.

I take his hand and invite him to leave the old woman. I don’t want to disturb her. But, my hubby says, “I don’t want to leave her alone. Not anymore! I’d be there to accompany her. She is like…….” He can’t continue his words. He’s crying in front of me.

I seduce him and give him a warm hug, “Let her alone, please! Please!”

The old woman’s point view

“O My God, what time is it?” I am nervous when I see the watch. I remember I have to go to park to meet my grandson, Yazid. Yesterday, he emailed me. O, I miss him. I guess, he is a young man now, handsome like his father Ismail.

I take my small-red sweater. I knitted it yesterday. I need a little time to finish it. I’ll give it to Yazid’s daughter, Zahwa.

Yazid and his parents visited me in this big house 10 years ago. He was 13. But he was a tall boy. “I really miss you , Yazid! I miss your sweet family!”

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have enough time to visit me this time. So, he only asked me to meet in the park.

I walk to the park. It is near from my house. This evening is really beautiful. The butterflies fly and descend upon the flowers. The children are playing balloon, the others are playing hide and seek. They are very happy, and enjoying the time. Some young couples are talking nicely. I walk toward and choose a bench under the palm tree. Before knitting a small sweater, I message Yazid and inform him about my location. I hope he and his daughter will find me easily.

I continue my work to finish the small sweater. I’m sure 30 minutes later I’ll finish it, and Yazid will come in 45 minutes.

I’m enjoying my work. I love knitting since I was a child. My mother taught me well about it.

When I’m enjoying my time, all at once a young man comes close to me. He sits on knees and holds my hand. He kisses mine. I’m so confuse. My small – red sweater is fallen from my hands. “Who is this man?” Behind him, a young woman stands and touches the shoulders of this man.

“Who are you? Let go of!” I take my hand crudely. I’m afraid of him. He’s a stranger. I had bad memory with the stranger. I can’t believe in all the strangers. Never!

He stares at me. He’s crying.

O young man, how could you cry like a baby?  

The young woman, I don’t know her. Is she his wife, his girl or whom, I don’t care about her. She seduces a young man to leave me. But a young man says to her, “I don’t want to leave her alone. Not anymore! I’d be there to accompany her. She is like…….”

I can hear his words. But I don’t understand about that.

Please leave me alone! I just want to meet Yazid and Zahwa, not you both.. I only say it in my mind. I hope they will leave me alone.

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Author:

I'm a teacher in Islamic Elementary School. Hand lettering is my new hobby, but I like it so much. Here, I wanna master it n all the genre of my writing.

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