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. The woman pats his back. He says “I will miss you, please don’t leave me and go. I don’t know if I have told you enough but I really love you!”. He thinks to himself of every moment that he could have been with her, of every moment that he has lost. He looks up and finds the day to be so cloudy, gloomy rather! Cold winds and unhappy trees swaying to and fro. He looks down and finds bushes with wilted flowers, petals fallen on the pathway. Everything seems reduced of its color to him.
The woman looks up at him and sees his tears. She reaches out to pat his back with a small smile playing on her lips. She thinks of what the doctor just told her and looks up to find the sky in a shade of prettiest Blue that she ever came across. Fresh winds play with her flicks and run through her lungs. Huge Green trees dance to the winds and as though, smile at her. She looks down as she can’t contain her happiness anymore. She finds bushes full of blooming flowers, their aroma capturing her senses. Everything seems bright to her as though seeing the world through newly cleaned lenses. She says “Son! its God’s way of calling me and the cancer doesn’t hurt much. I love you a lot but I look forward to joining your Dad in heavens soon!”.
The old woman sitting on the bench looks up to see the couple passing by and takes a deep breath wishing hard for a child that was never born to her. She thinks of her two marriages and the failed adoption process that she went through. She looks up at the sky and wishes for Sun to be more brighter and warmer, it would be nice for her old bones. Old age is quite painful especially when you have no one to take care of you, she thinks. She looks down and finds bushes full of buds and flowers, if only she could pluck them from here and sell them in the market for some money. But she would be fined if she did so. She let’s go of this thought and gets back to knitting the sweater as its delivery is due for tomorrow and she needs the money for survival.
Go to a public location and make a detailed report of what you see. The twist of the day? Write the post without adverbs.
(And I have never done something like this, I find this difficult, going to try though)
I wait for the subway train while I see queue line grow every minute in the reflection of glass doors that prevent access to the train tracks. I can hear TV commercial of Maleficent going above my head. The girl standing on my right has beads of sweat on her forehead. Her Brown dyed hair now reveal her Black roots. Her long straight hair are secured in a Red rubber band. She smiles at her phone and starts to tap on the screen with both her thumbs. She has worn a White Chiffon shirt with short Black skirt and Black Fitflops. The bald man behind has started to look into her phone over her shoulders. He inches forward and his eyebrows rise a little. He has wrinkles on his face and hands, and his shirt too, is wrinkled. His light Grey Cotton shirt has turned dark Grey around his chest and arm holes.
I look into the glass doors as I feel a presence behind me. A set of light Blue eyes peer at me. Red hair in a Mohawk, Black earrings and a Black ring in his lips. His lips turn into an upward curve and I smile back at him. A baby wails in the arms of his mother on the escalator behind me. I see a girl scan the whole area, and then she begins to walk and joins the shortest queue line in the center of the platform. She is dressed in a Red sleeveless tucked in a Black pencil skirt. Her body looks very toned. Her Black work bag hangs at her elbow. Her hair straight, sleek and Black.
I hear a rumble at the far end of the train tunnel and turn my head to see the tunnel lit with the train on its way to pick us. Train jolts and halts in front of us and the glass door open along with the trains’. I feel cold hair hit my face and take a step forward.
(I don’t think I managed this assignment well, not using adverbs was a challenge indeed:( )
The place I’d like to be in right now instead this office chair and finely lit top floor of the building would be a place where I can close my eyes, feel all my worries leaving me one by one and burden on my shoulders lessening. A place where I can smell that familiar fragrance that I know of since I was born, be caressed with those gentle hands and yet feel most protected, cocoon myself into a ball and shut the world out.
I would like to place my head in my mothers lap with her caressing my head and saying reassuring words that I hold on to, drive strength from, I would like to put my head in her small yet spacious lap that feels better than any other pillow and look at the crack of sunlight coming through fully drawn curtained window in my room. My room, it feels like haven of peace to me, it’s decorated in the shades of sunset and evening Sun light completes the whole look. Walls are in shade of dark peach and the ceiling in the shade of a faint peach. Opening my eyes while lying in my mothers lap and seeing this magic of shades and light unfold brings me a certain sense of peace.
I find my bed very comfortable too, not soft like hotel beds and not hard like marble flooring, just good enough for my back to let go of all the built up tension. I close my eyes and feel her hands caress my forehead. I open my eyes and see her reflection in the mirror doors of my almirah facing my bed. I see our reflections. I see her using my Orange colored pillow as a back rest against the wall behind my bed. I see my orange and brown striped quilt nicely folded at the foot of my bed covered in Orange and yellow polka dots colored bed sheet. I close my eyes and again submerge into the darkness to feel her hand going through my hair and her love giving me warmth through out my body, enough to strengthen me through any battle. I open my eyes.
I look at the clock that till date is waiting to be hung on to the wall. Its an Orange colored clock with silver needles sitting on another small wooden cabinet in my room next to the Brown mahogany bathroom door. It strikes five thirty pm. I am glad more than half the day is gone. I see mess of my earrings, bracelets and bits of paper next to the clock. I promise to tidy the place, not just now. I see silver paint coming off handles of the cabinet underneath the clock. All things wear out, just like us. I close my eyes.
I feel her tiny hands and inhale the smell of lemongrass, her favorite soap. I open my eyes, I see the wall towards my left and glance at the mosaic of our family pictures. Everyone dressed and smiling in their individual frames. I think of the day when number of frames would increase on this wall as more members get added into the family. I smile. I realize they are my strength and the makers of my identity. I don’t know what would I have done without them. Each one with their own fragrance. I close my eyes and hug my mom and push my head into her tummy. I feel completely at peace. I tell her “this is world’s best place for me, no comparison, I love you mom!”.