This was written in response to Writing 101: Point of View.
My first version keeps going back to password protection so here is my second attempt at posting.
The Old Woman
‘Johnny’s going to love this sweater. I hope it fits. That boy is growing far too quickly.’ Her hands shook slightly as she twisted the yarn around the needles.
The cracking of leaves caught her attention and she glanced up. A smile graced her face at the sight of the young couple. Oh to be young and in love again.
But she was far too old to be young, she would leave that to her soon to be 3 year old great-grandson.
The Woman
The sunlight beat a perfect rhythm on her face bringing out a laugh. She grabbed her fiance’s hand and tugged him into the piles of leaves.
“Come on Frederich. It’s a wonderful day to jump in the leaves.” She kicked at the leaves in front of her. “Can you imagine how beautiful our engagement photos will turn out?”
“Anna, the photos will turn out beautiful no matter what because you are in them.”
She smiled and tugged Frederich into a hug. Her eyes caught the glance of the elderly woman who was knitting on the park bench.
That would be her one day; knitting sweaters for her grandchildren.
The Man
Anna made his life better. Watching her childlike joy as she played in the leaves made the fight for his life worthwhile.
He knew he had to tell her. She had plans for their future that can’t work out anymore. At least, not with him.
The shock of Anna grabbing his hand pulled him out of his thoughts. “Come on Frederich. It’s a wonderful day to jump in the leaves.”
He intertwined their fingers and smiled at her.
“Can you imagine how beautiful our engagement photos will turn out?” The light twinkled off of her eyes, making her look even more like an angel.
“Anna, the photos will turn out beautiful no matter what because you are in them.” I’m the one who will make them ordinary.
Anna pulled him into a hug, lightening his mood. He spun them around; making Anna giggle.
While spinning, he noticed the old woman watching them from her seat on the bench. He noticed the small sweater, half-formed in her hands.
A lone tear creeped down his face.
That was something he could never give Anna. If she stayed with him, she would never have the children she longed for.
A.P.'s Quill 