Write a scene showing a man and a woman arguing over the man's friendship with a former girlfriend. Do not mention the girlfriend, the man, the woman, or the argument.
As the sun began to set over the tawny hills of Northern Minnesota, a police car rolled down th street in a friendly looking suburb. The officer inside was hunched over the steering wheel, the whites of his eyes showing as they darted back and forth, giving him the look of a crazed animal. A large, unruly, and very cliché mustache perched on his upper lip, hairs waving whenever he huffed out a frustrated breath. After a half hour of driving down empty streets at dusk, he yanked his radio out of its holster and spoke into it.
“I got nothing, Barney,” he growled, boredom showing on his face, “The idiot’s not anywhere around here.” When aforementioned Barney replied, his voice was tight with apprehension and stress, quite a contrast to the present police officer.
“Keep looking! This guy’s wanted for murder. Something about a crazy love triangle. Keep a look out, and head over to Winder Street next.”
After a mumbled ‘Yes, sir’, the police car revved, pulled forward and was off to search for a killer who was on the loose.
Emma, however, had more important things on her mind.
The four year old sat in her front yard, green grass dancing around her, lit up by the golden light of the sunset. Several white lawn chairs were posed on the patio, a glass table with a bowl of apples completing the art. The scene looked like something out of a Target commercial, if you discounted the scowl on the girls face. She sat in a sandbox, dressed in a yellow sundress that complimented her light, airy curls well. Her nose, which was wrinkled with displeasure, was sprinkled with caramel colored freckles, and her pink bottom lip jutted out - the picture of a young temper. To her left sat an overturned purple bucket, the white plastic handle turned gray after years of hard play. On her right was a matching shovel, stuck into the ground rather violently, and tilted to the side in a sad sort of way. Emma sat there, unmoving, glaring into the street in protest, determined to put her mother in her place.
Emma sighed as she recalled the phone call that had brought her mother away from their game and into the kitchen. With a ‘Go build mommy a pretty sand castle, dear’, Emma was ushered out into the front yard, left to wonder how she was supposed to build a sandcastle with no water.
There, Emma might have sat all night, if she had not been interrupted by what took place next. A large, green Suburban squealed around the corner, pulling onto the silent street. It growled furiously as it rushed down the street, screeching to a stop at the house next to Emma’s. The young girl could not see who got out of the car, but heard loud swearing and the front door slammed as whoever it was entered the front door of the house.
For a short while it was quiet, and Emma had gone back to glaring out at the black asphalt. She jumped nearly a foot in the air when a wail broke through the calm evening, sounding like someone was torturing a cat. Emma turned her head to her neighbors house, brown eyes wide and blond curls bouncing. It sounded as though something was banging around. Emma pictured a big brown grizzly bear slamming a table into a wall repeatedly (ah, the four year old mind). She stood, leaving her refuge of her sand box, and walked over to the blue fence that separated the two plots of land. A trail of sand fell from the bottom of her dress, and Emma reached down to brush the dirt off her legs with small, child hands. Then she crawled over to a small wood pile, climbing up. Even so, she had to stand on her very tip-toes to peek over the fence.
Emma’s eyes appeared over the fence just in time to see a lamp sail through the window. The girl gave a small squeal, masked by the breaking of glass, and fell backwards. Her guardian angel must have been present that night, because the lamp sailed far, landing several feet from Emma’s head and cracking open like a badly patterned egg. Emma stared at it as though it was going to come alive and growl at her. She was only distracted when another object came flying through the window. The young child watched as a gold flash flew through the air, bouncing once and landing in her sand box. Emma hurried over, searching for a moment before spying her prize.
“Shiny,” the girl murmured, delighted by the gold ring she held in her hand. A glistening diamond perched in the middle, surrounded by clusters of more smaller jewels. Emma tried to stick the ring on her finger, but it was too big, and only slipped right off. With a happy giggle, she left the ring laying on the side of her sandbox, and returned to the wood pile.
This time, when Emma peeked over, she could see into a room. Half of a picture was in her view, a sailboat floating leisurely across the canvas. It hung crooked now, the boat looking as thought it might slip right out of the ocean and onto the ground. A large and ugly green couch was the next thing Emma noticed, shoved at an awkward angle. Voices drifted from a room to the left, then the wail started up again. Emma covered her ears, wondering who would dare take care of such a horrible sounding kitty, then turned her head slightly to the left, so as to look further into the room. She could see broken plaster, crack spider webbing out from the initial breaking point, a broken chair nearby. Emma got ten minutes time-out whenever she drew on the walls - she wondered casually how long this offender would be in the corner for.
Once again, Emma’s spying was interrupted, though not by ugly lamp, nor the wail that had started up again, but by another wail completely. The wail of police sirens. Three cars flew into the street, coming to a loud stop in front of the house Emma was watching. She stared in amazement as policemen burst from the cars like clowns from the circus. They rushed into the house, holding dangerous looking black things in their hands. They were in there for a long time, before coming out. Two policemen held a person in there grasp, but the many cars obscured Emma’s view. The next thing she saw, was a very large, very unruly, and very cliché mustache. Her eyes were drawn next to the glistening, shiny badge that was pressed on his chest. The owner of both mustache and badge smiled kindly at the girl, eyes hidden by black aviator glasses.
“Hey there Hun,” he said kindly, “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about your neighbors here?”
“Can I ask you a question first (though she said it ‘fwirst‘)?” Emma asked shyly, wringing the bottom of her sundress, brown at the bottoms with sand and green at the back with grass stains.
“Of course. Go right ahead,” said the Officer. Emma smiled up at him, shyness gone in a flash, as four year old shyness is prone to do. She grinned, revealing a missing tooth, and spouted her simple question.
“How do you make a sandcastle without water?”
When I read it, it made my brain hurt 
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