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.
Man’s point of view: The sweater caught my eye. Mama used to knit a lot. I remember the one she knitted for…no, I can’t think of that right now! It hurts to. Well, it was five years ago. I remember like it was yesterday. My first wife and I were strolling down the street with our newborn son when a drunk came around the corner jumped the curb and ran us all down with both my wife and son being killed. While we were preparing for their funeral, Momma knitted a sweater just like this one for my boy. We buried him in it with his mama. I cried for over a week, but never forgot that sweet gesture of hers. I cry every time I see red yarn.
Woman’s point of view: Why is he crying? he’s going to embarrass himself. Doesn’t he know that it’s a sign of weakness in a man to cry in public? At least, that is what I’ve been taught. He needs to stop. I guess I need to have a good talk with him when we’re home.
Old woman’s point of view: Such a nice looking couple coming this way. They’re stopping. Now why the tears in his eyes? Do I remind him of his grandmother? Did she knit also? Little does he know about the young lad who is to receive this sweater. And the young woman. Why does she look scornful at him? I must finish soon. I have no time for questions. The funeral is tomorrow.